SINS AND VIRTUES
by DarkShadowRin
Summary: DRABBLES. PIECES. LOTS OF PIECES THAT DONT MAKE SENSE. (Unconnected drabbles mostly about the Arcobaleno but also pieces from the people around them. Varia are a personal fav.) These ARE all khr. So even the Harry Potter that crops up, you should think them in the KHR-verse. 33: Groupchat
1. Chapter 1

The common assumption was that the Arcobaleno became the Arcobaleno somewhere around fifty years ago in the early to late 1960's. (It was also assumed that they were humans.)

They didn't. (They weren't.)

It was the autumn of 1828.

They would never forget that day. The leaves were falling, painted with the colour of a bonfire and making the world seem brilliantly lit. They were at the peak of their greatness, their powers coiling in the air and poking and prodding at each other playfully.

They remembered because when their powers were rendered in a ball and bound tight in the awkward containers that was now their new forms, everything had happened too fast between a moment and another and the contrast between the changes had left them reeling and cold.


	2. Chapter 2

Fon could remember another life walking among the stars bound by nothing. They had called him Sun Wo Kung.

From beauty, to brains, to power, Viper was the girl born with everything and nothing; Morgan Le Fay.

Lal had watched the universe swallow her home, the Empire of Atlantis. Centuries had passed, but forever she shall be a warrior of the city lost to the ocean.

One never knew how much of a blessing something actually was, until one had already lost it. The ability to stop, and rest, and finally end it all -the ability to die-is a luxury Skull doesn't know.

Colonnello was the only true human among them all and he could call upon literal rain and put a whole country to eternal sleep. He'd already done it once.

Reborn had been one of His grim reapers. Perhaps it had been greed and ambition, or him just learning of a new perspective, but there was a reason that was said in the past tense.

Verde had brought technology and science to new heights. In fact, he had quiet literally single-handedly brought upon the modern age with his own two hands starting by dying as Leonardo Da Vinci and forcibly shoving his soul in Verde.


	3. Chapter 3

Civilians are familiar of the idea of soulmates; they come in pairs and from every flaw and shortcomings fit each other perfectly. In the mafia, soulmates come in a set. Harmonization, is the term. Skies are rare, those capable of pulling on Harmonization -a complex phenomena of multiple people in complete union- even rarer. And making it last? A gruelling task involving fighting every moment to keep it together.

A complete and successful harmonization is practically a fairy tale. Something people daydreamed of.

They had collapsed, gasping and writhing in pain, on their back or their hands and knees. But even through that, they could still register enough to realize what was happening.

They were harmonizing.

So why was it so painful?

If the harmonization in the stories told of gentle coaxing and warm embraces and belonging, this was taking everything that made them _them _and forcibly going at it with a needle and a thread. Quite literally.

One moment they were them, individuals that not even seconds ago were little more than strangers, and then the next, parts and pieces of the others were being forcibly superglued to them. Memories that weren't theirs flickered through their minds.

They were Them now.

Unified in a manner that violated and perverted the ritual.

Viper screamed.


	4. Chapter 4

"..."

No words were spoken aloud. What was there to say in the first place?

Luce was dead and no one was quiet sure what to feel about that.

Reborn was the only one close enough to be counted as 'attending'. The rest were scattered in the forest behind him.

Forced or otherwise, they were still bonded and through the pacifiers, he could sense them.

He stared at the tombstone. It was shaded under a tree in the middle of a small plain somewhere in Italy. From here, he could see the familiar visage of The House. The dates were blurred. Reborn didn't know if that was on purpose.

He turned and walked away.

There was no tears shed that day.


	5. Chapter 5

"Yo Vipes! We're going out to eat, you gonna come with?"

Viper turned around from Ezela and to a pair of men bouncing towards them. Before she could even speak, Skull had already answered for her, "Of course they do! Viper doesn't let pass free food!"

Ezela crossed her arms over her armour, raising an eyebrow at her ex-pupil and the blinding purple that was the resident Immortal.

"I didn't hear anything about this?"

Sean grinned arrogantly, waving his hand at her, "This is _ex. clu. sive. _Just us buddies. And definitely no girls.

Ezela's right eyebrow twitched.

Beneath her hood, Viper expression turned flat, "You say that, but you don't even know if I'm male."

The idiot twins shook their heads, Skull said "No way. You're definitely a guy. There's just a vibe around you." 

...She should feel offended at that, right?

The only other female snorted, "Vibe? Are you psychic to determine the gender of a vibe?"

"Maybe cause we stick to Viper so much he'd rub off on us." Sean said, nodding to himself, utterly convinced.  
"...that's not how it works idiots. Now leave this topic be and tell me about that free dinner."

"Free dinner? I vote Italian."

"Denied!" was the consensus. "You _always _vote Italian! There's being patriotic and there's just being boring!"

"Besides! No body asked you Renato!" Sean sneered, his fist meeting Renato's palm.

"How about Vietnamese?"

Viper's lips curled. It was an instantaneous reaction at this point. "No. We had that last week. And also, none of the taverns anywhere would get us that. We're in Europe."

Li Jie pouted, sidling up to her "We're eating out?"

A pout should not look right on a man his size.

"No! No! No! No! NO! There's no We, just Us!" Skull whined.

"How about Malaysian? Some spiciness. Don't you like that Viper?" Li Jie asked serenely, completely ignoring the younger boy.

"That's the same issue." What's with his insistence? Was he feeling homesick?

"I want Italian so that's that, who gave you the right to deny me that? Who died and made you leader, stupid?" What's with that righteous tone?

"You're contradicting yourself bastard!"

Right on cue, Luce trailed in with Verde to her right.

"Oh, hi Sean, what brings you here?"

Verde scoffed, "More like, when isn't he here?"

Renato smirked. Skull sighed, seeing the expression. Sean attempted to body tackle him but he was a second too late.

"We're going out to dinner, we're deciding what to eat. I say Italian."

Luce blinked.

The crash when the pair of adult men landed echoed in the room.

Ezela looked at them as if they were the disappointment of her life. Viper lips twitched.

Skull, knowing everyone well enough -petty man childs basically- he could predict what was going to happen next, said, "Sean and Renato were fighting over who would pay for everyone. They're just too gentlemanly and wants to take it up themselves."

Everyone looked at him.

And you wonder why, Viper thought, that you're always on the other side of their harassment.

They didn't go Italian, but they did have turkey. And Skull had to hole himself up for the whole week in his room because contrary to popular assumption, Luce wasn't an angel and was more than happy to leave the bill to the two.


	6. Chapter 6

For the longest time she could remember, Kawahira had always been by her side. Always just at the edge of her vision.

She was three, when she first took a hold of his coat.

She had kept him in her periphery, never looking straight at him for fear that he would disappear, and steadily shuffled her way towards his corner of the room.

"Hello."

"..."

"My name's Luce."

"..."

"Mommy says it's because I'm her light and happiness."

"..."

p dir="ltr""Do you wanna play?"

p dir="ltr"He didn't. But he did stay.

p dir="ltr"At that time, she had thought it was because she wouldn't let go of him. Now she knew better.

(Luce never got to know exactly why he stayed)

He was mysterious. And handsome. And a grown-up.

When he spoke his first words to her, she was eight and it was right after he saved her from falling off a building. Her kidnappers had thrown her as a last act of spite to her mother before they were shot down by her mother's men. He stayed by her while she cried after the shock wore off.

"Everything's fine now. Your mother's here. You can cry, I'll stay."

She'll look back on this later and know, that this was the moment she fell in love.

"Kawa, don't you have a home?"

"...I have a house."

"Then, don't you want to sleep in your bed. If you always stay like that, you'll hurt your neck."

"...It's not my home."

She didn't understand it at the time. Wasn't a house and home the same thing? Nevertheless, she scooted over. Her bed was queen sized and it was more than enough to fit two grown-up people.

"Sleep beside me then."

After a moment of silence, he crawled over.

(She had no idea why he did and she'd never get to ask)

She was thirteen, when she first felt heartbreak.

"Kawa...um...I want you. Will you be my Mist?"

"No. I already have a Sky."

His answer was curt. Clipped and unfeeling.

She thought she'd break in two.

She couldn't bring herself to look at him for a long time.

She met Him just a few months later in a gala held by her mother's friend. Kawahira was just in the corner of her eyes as usual so she felt incredibly awkward when the older boy started hitting on her.

He introduced himself as Darren. He was cute with a captivating aura and a playful tone.

He was really, really, cute that halfway through their conversation, her cheeks began burning with something other than embarrassment.

To the point she even forgot about Kawahira just standing _right there._

Later, she'd burn with shame. But mostly, she tried to forget Darren. She already had Kawahira after all, she told herself.

But then they met again, at another party. And then again. And again.

And suddenly, her mental voice wasn't chanting about reasons to stay with Kawahira anymore.

It was reasons why, exactly, she should stay _away _from Kawahira.

He already has a Sky.

These days, the only feelings he was sparking in her was despair and an all-consuming want to the point that it was terrifying her. The feelings of safety, and comfort, and the warmth of first love was completely overpowered.

Darren on the other hand, was warm but not too hot. He's stable in a way that despite having been present since her earliest memories, Kawahira never managed. She's always wrapped in a coat of contentedness when by his side.

And unlike Kawahira, Darren never looked at her as if seeing through her.

He never made her feel insufficient. As if she's just a spectre of what she _should _be.

She was eighteen, when her mother caught on and arranged the engagement.

Neither side had any complaints.

She cried herself to sleep that night. Not out of happiness nor any form of anguish.

It was just grief. Of a love that died and a chance that couldn't have been.

(Until the end, Luce would remember that he never truly opened up to her. She'd sometimes think if she ever actually knew Kawahira)

"Hey. Kawahira...um..."

"Yes?"

"Er..." from her neck to the tips of her ears, she was bright red, "M, my honeymoon... can you, you know?...not appear. I mean, I'm not necessarily asking you to leave if you don't want to- but that doesn't mean I want you to stay of course! N,not that I want you to leave either as I said! Just, at least don't show yourself! For the whole time! Please! Cause that would be really awkward and embarrassing not that I'm embarrassed of Darren but you know what I mean-!"

He snorted, "Of course. I'm not a brick wall. I do understand privacy."

_Sure, _she wanted to say but refrained from doing so.

Kawahira wasn't there at the day of her wedding. Or the reception. He was also absent from the honeymoon.

Luce was relieved.

When she returned he was there again and she waited expectantly.

She waited for hours on end. Her joy dampened. She waited for weeks. For months.

(She'd eventually find herself waiting for years)

But no congratulations passed his lips.

Not even for the engagement, she'd realise. Not for the wedding. Not for the reception. Not for the honeymoon. Not for when her and Darren started living together.

Nothing.

He was her first love but even more than that, he was her first friend. It worried her.

Then he disappeared.

One day. Then one week. Then one month.

One year.

One year, three months, two weeks, four days, thirteen hours, and sixteen minutes later, he appeared in front of her.

He was pale, gaunt, and barely standing.

He was also holding a stone hanging from a thin chain.

She thought it was a bit funny, how it looked like a baby's pacifier.

Luce caught him as he collapsed, perturbed at this sudden display of weakness, and inadvertently glanced a touch to it.

She didn't think it was funny anymore, when she felt something inside her very existence _break._ Like the creak of a rusted cog.

And suddenly, Luce was Seeing.

Seven and eight interchange.

_Like the flame of a candle, she shall lead them to their downfall. And like moth to flame, they shall follow obediently, unaware. Deceived by their own want, they shall fall from their grace and power. Gods and Great, desire is their flaw, sacrifice is a must and they shall be the tribute for balance_.

Tears carved a path down her face.

The room was silent. As if the world itself was afraid to disturb this moment of discovery- no, of _realization._

Fate. Destiny.

Luce had always believed in them in the same way every little girl dreaming of a Prince on a gallant horse or a knight in shining armour did.

Luce embraced Kawahira in her arms, crying.

It was unfair, she thought. Unfair.

Unfair, unfair, unfair, unfair.

A flash of blue identical to hers sparked in her memory and a whispered name of _Uni _and _Aria_ caressed the shell of her ear.

Luce broke down.

(Later, she'll build herself back up, but for now...)


	7. Chapter 7

"Mammy."

_Tap, tap, tap, tap, _went the cell phone screen.

"Mammy, don't ignore me~."

"..."

"...Mammy~" Bel whined, the eight year old kicking his legs and flailing his arms and just generally being an obnoxious entity in the Varia living room.

BANG! went the door, because obviously anything concerning Squalo could only have capital letters.

"VOI! WE GOT LUNCH!" he hollered to the people that were supposed to be the big bad Varia Independent Assassination Squad.

Xanxus had sank down his throne chair, shoulders pressed to his cheeks, and his feet crossed on the coffee table. Levi held the remote, looking the epitome of a jobless couch potato in his house clothes.

On the screen, a woman was wailing at a comatose man, _"Oh Ricardo, my son who I haven't seen since you were kidnapped as a baby, my love. That woman who you married must've done this to you, the daughter of our rival, oh-"_

Behind the Commander, Lussuria trailed with sundaes. Immediately, he went straight to the kitchen to store it in the ref.

"Peasant Commander! Mammy's been ignoring me!"

"Huh?" he grunted, honestly not in the mood to deal with Bel's problem -Not that he ever was, mind you, "Yeah, that's great, just do what you've been doing."

Squalo set the boxes on the table. Xanxus absently threw a pillow to his head, eyes glued to the t.v screen, "Trash, you're back."

The blonde picked it up off the carpet, grumbling, "I had to. God only knew how any of you'd survive without either me or Luss."

Mammon finally looked up, attention caught by the smell of food. From inside white boxes with red chinese characters painted on the side, they could smell Mapo Tofu.

They raised their phone and the snap of a photo resounded.

There was stunned silence.

"Trash, did you just take a picture of our food?"

_Tap, tap, tap, tap._

"Hmmm? Yeah, boss. If you want a copy, it'll cost you a thousand Euro."

"Ushishishi~, what did Mammy do to it, post it on FB?"

"On the Arcobaleno group chat."

They gaped at them.

"... you have a groupchat?"

"How else would they keep each other updated."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Levi exclaimed, "I thought they thought you were dead?!"

Mammon snickered, "Oh, they do. In fact, they're so utterly convinced of it. And even when I'm chatting to them like this they're still in denial. Seriously, that blonde idiot and Skull honestly thought they're being haunted."

"Yes, well, honey, setting that aside, it's mealtime. You're aloud to eat on the couch but no cellphones. We don't want you to make a mess being so distracted." Luscious cut in, emerging from the kitchen.

"... Boss is distracted."

Everyone looked at Xanxus, completely wrapped up in the show.

"It's different, he's the Boss and he's got Squalo to attend to him."

"Mammy, attend to the Prince!"

"No."

Under the Sun Officer's unnerving smile, Mammon pocketed their phone, sighing.

"... truly, modern conveniences are addicting..."

"Shishi! Did Mammy not have phones in Mammy's time?"

"More like the internet. Cleopatra would've been too much of a nice guy if she allowed it, the bitch."

"..."

_How old was Mammon?_


	8. Chapter 8

Hey, Reborn, what are you?"

"... did none of the etiquette teachers get through you even just a little bit? No, even the best people would have a hard time fighting against nature I suppose."

"Ha. Ha. I know it was a bit rude, but I'm serious. What the heck are you?"

Reborn met Dino's stare with a flat look.

"I'm your tutor. And the world's number one hitman. Do you want me to help you regain your memory?"

It was his turn to deadpan now.

"You _know _what I mean!"

Stroking Leon, his lips twitched mockingly.

"What do you mean? I'm not a mind reader you know."

_Yeah right._

Dino was exhausted, having just finished another one of Reborn's exercises; his ribs were aching, there's definitely a fracture somewhere, is that bone peeking out from his ankles?, and he felt like he could sleep forever.

The question had just popped out of the blue.

It's not that he'd never wondered. It just that Reborn and the other super babies had been in the mafia long enough that they're just a generally accepted existence by this point in time. In a world where the world's greatest criminals wield rainbow coloured flames, superpowered and eternally infantile individuals are easier to swallow.

It's an unsaid law; don't mess with them and if you're lucky, you'd never have to cross paths in your lifetime.

Dino had never been lucky in his life anyways, so the way things turned out wasn't particularly astonishing.

If only someone with a worse luck existed somewhere out there. Someone who'd take Reborn off his hands.

"You're thinking of something rude aren't you?"

_Didn't you just say you're not a mind reader?!_

"Heeey~, you didn't answer my question."

The hit man shrugged. "I'm an Arcobaleno."

"Well duh. What _is _an Arcobaleno?"

Dino was sprawled on his back on the ground and Reborn was standing somewhere above his head, so to the teen, he was upside down. It didn't do much to conceal the flash of something odd passing through his eyes.

"... we're the strongest. The Chosen Seven."

... the way he said it made Dino feel the weight of those words.

There was something bitter to it.

He hesitated, before deciding to push more. If Reborn really didn't want to discuss it, then he wouldn't get answers and that's that.

"... strongest amongst whom?...Chosen for what?"

Reborn looked up at the sun.

Unreachable. Burning. Searing.

For a moment there, Dino thought a shadow of a man bathed in darkness loomed over him. It was gone within a blink.

"Everyone. And chosen for what?... sacrifice, tribute, heroes, depends on who you ask."

A silence descended between them.

Dino puzzled, and Reborn... Well, he'd almost say he was wistful if this wasn't Reborn he was describing.

"...that's enough. You still have energy to burn talking, I'm sure you can drag yourself back to your room on your own. A boss should be independent and not always have to rely on your subordinates."

"Wait, what?! Hey! Hey Reborn! Wait!"


	9. Chapter 9

Closing the door behind him, Renato briefly glanced at Leon the Chameleon, dropping his keys on a table and stopping by the wall with a collage of mugshots of various men and women.

_And with this, there's seventy-two._

Pinning the most recent photo, he stood there, staring. Then he turned, training a gun on the man seated in his couch.

"As I thought. You're truly qualified, huh."

Half-hidden in the shadows with his legs crossed and holding a cane in one hand, he wore a hat that shone like iron under the meagre light, a red coat, and a mask painted with white and black. The stranger watched him with an odd curl to his lips.

It wasn't a smile of joy.

Renato narrowed his eyes, appraising him.

Not human. Not mortal.

Not an angel though. Neither a demon.

...Ah, this was going to be troublesome then, no doubt.

"Who are you and on who's behalf are you here?"

He spread his arms, shrugging, "It's just me."

He slipped a gloved hand in his coat and Renato cocked his gun.

"Don't move."

Unimpeded, he pulled out his hand, retrieving something he palmed, "Don't be hasty."

He snapped his wrist and the thing flew up in a straight line. Keeping the man in his sights, Renato inspected the object.

It was round and relatively small, seemingly fashioned after a baby's pacifier. It looked like a useless trinket only good for showcasing on a shelf. The man caught it with ease, concealing it inside his fist.

Renato was left puzzled and just the tiniest bit unnerved.

That thing...

It was wrong. Twisted.

Something called and ached. For what, Renato wasn't certain. Only he knew that when the time came that it took a hold of whatever it was, it wouldn't let go.

Curious.

"I am here to gather the Seven Strongest. 'I Priscelti Sette'."

"...The selected seven."

"That's correct."

"You want to hire me?"

"Yes."

Renato grudgingly pocketed his gun back. A client is still a client.

No matter how odd or suspicious. Besides, in this kind of job, those types of people are what he'd most often have to deal with anyway.

He needed to get used to it.

His Soul Flames simmered just at the edge of his reach.

"This job request, is it a team one?"

"I guarantee the gain is a big one. But first I'd like you to get together."

He offered him a piece of folded paper, "Go here. And you'll be able to meet the others."

He disappeared in a wave of Mist Flames.

Renato waited for a whole minute and ascertained that he was finally alone. Well, except for Leon the Chameleon.

Unfolding the paper revealed a fairly detailed map. He glanced at the words written in the lower right corner.

EARTHBORN DOMAIN REALM, HUMAN WORLD  
ITALY, ROME

Folding it back and tucking it in his suit, Renato idly wondered if he was an Earthborn.

The Dying Gods, people called them wasn't it?

Well, either way that wasn't Renato's business.  
_

The entire neighbourhood was rundown. With rundown shops lining the alleyway and rotting wooden crates piled by the corners.

The _tap, tap, tap _of his shoes echoed.

Stopping in front of the building he was told to come to, he gave it a once over. It didn't differ or stand out from the surroundings. A simple two story, small enough that the best it housed couldn't have been more than just a fledgling business. Not even an eatery.

He twisted the door knob and pushed, senses sharp for any trace of hostility. There wasn't a creak or even a hitch to the hinges.

As he'd predicted, it was small. There was a round table in the center, surrounded by seven chairs, six of which were already occupied. It wasn't particularly large, but it already ate at the space. A stair tucked in a corner led to an open second floor.

He approached, eyes glancing over each of the individuals and comparing them to mental notes.

If he wasn't who he was, he might've at least raised an eyebrow. Certainly, any normal person (with his amount of information) who saw such a gathering would've openly gawked. Maybe even choked.

That guy wasn't just talking the talk when he had said 'gather the seven strongest'.

He bobbed his hat to them.

"Sorry I'm a bit late."


	10. Chapter 10

So she was reincarnated -probably dying in the process.

So even death apparently couldn't cure bad eyesight -and now it's only _worse._

So even after transcending death she still had the same nightmares.

Well. Harley Lillian Potter was nothing if not adaptable.

She adapted to the Dursleys, to suddenly being dropped on the lap of an unfamiliar world of wonder and magic and unknown fears, to the ever-changing opinions of those around her, to having a monster after her life, to war. She adapted to the aftermath of the War.

She could do this.

(But was it ever so hard.)

The name she was given here... she didn't catch it.

Everything just happened too soon, too fast. Before she knew it, she was well and truly alone. There was no one who would fight for her while she was unable to (that wasn't new, but she'd gotten used to the concept of _comrades_).

A tiny waif of a little girl with not even her eyes to depend on.

She didn't even have a complete grasp of the language of the country she was born in -Russia, she thought.

For all intents and purposes, someone like that was destined to die.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), Harley was the Girl Who Lived.

Living was her whole shtick.

This world was an in between. A place between other realms. Energies mingled in the air. From the magic she was most familiar with, to what she thought was what people called qi, and to a hundred other strange and equally abstract forms of Life. Once, she'd even glanced a light touch of Death.

She didn't know if she became sensitive to them because of her reincarnation or just because of this body that was now hers, but she made use of that.

She was still stumbling over herself, eyes just barely crossing the line of being a pair of useful eyeballs. She'd wake up every night with a scream stuck in her throat and the loneliness steadily ate at her sanity.

But with magic she was warm, her clothes were the right size and clean, and though malnutrition will forever leave it's mark on her (again) she's eating better than even most households by making do.

When Harley, now calling herself Viper, happened upon the man in the iron hat who introduced himself as Checkerface, it was in a dim Russian bar as a fifteen year old alcoholic.

The thing about reincarnation with your memory intact, was that _your memory was intact._

Sometimes, it was even clearer and much more vivid than it had ever been in your previous life.

Eight years to give up living as a normal little girl, two years to stumble into the mafia, two years to rise through the society's upper echelon, three months to slow down, one night to realise that she was on her double digits now so could finally drink (own logic), not too long to become hooked, and even sooner to fall in a state of stagnation.

Healer.

She was good at it. And she could pretend that the screams and blood in her dreams were just from her patients. Just strangers.

Harley Potter never existed. Just Viper.

The man, with the faint whiff of _ancient_, approached her with a predator-like gait and she just _knew _he was trouble.

She should've left right then and there.

But it seemed that not even everything she'd gone through could she get rid of her darned Potter luck and darned Potter curiosity -a source of many problems, that one.

"May I help you?"

"Yes indeed." He slid into the seat across from her. She appraised him.

He wasn't any of the beings she was familiar with. Not human. Not even mortal.

"I am here to gather the Seven Strongest. 'I Priscelti Sette'."

"...The selected seven."

"That's correct."

... it wasn't any of her business whatever he was doing. But she had enough self-awareness to know that the fact that he was talking to her right here right now about this particular topic meant that she was counted among these supposed seven.

"You want to hire me?"

His lips curled with a huff. Viper couldn't bring herself to count it as a smile.

"Precisely."

She took a sip of her vodka. "Just so you know, I don't do any fighting. I'm all about healing."

"What about sneaking around?"

"...you said seven. This is a group project then?"

"Yes. Seven of the most powerful beings from all over the eons."

Her eyebrow raised. Well now, if this didn't catch her interest...

"The reward?"

"A very large sum, I assure you."

She downed what's remaining of her drink, "So what else are we waiting for, let's draw a contract yeah?"

A slickness in his aura didn't go unnoticed but Viper easily disregarded it. The Mafia did not lack individuals with ulterior motives.

Better be careful of this man and her future teammates just to be safe though.

They were a... curious bunch. Which is just the polite way to refer to them.

Rodrigo. The man with the cock-sure way of... talking, walking, sleeping, _breathing; _His Grim Reaper. Or rather, ex-Grim Reaper. As evidenced of his going rogue, his eyes was devoid of all light, so different from the usual luminous ones of his kind.

Ares, God of War- or as he'd now preferred to be called as, 'Skull'. Imagine her surprise to find herself in the same room as one of the Greek Gods. Beings that had long ago supposedly joined the ranks of 'The Slumbering Gods'. A very much _not _slumbering God.

The man calling himself Verde, Da Vinci's literal reincarnation. Literally.

Sun WoKung, the Monkey King, garbled in bright red apparel and a calming smile pasted on his face.

Ezela of Atlantis, with her armour and hidden blades, one of the famed Atlantian warriors.

Luce of the Giglio Nero, a Seer and an Earthborn descendant -one of the earliest Gods to walk this realm.

And her, Harley Liliana Potter, the girl with too many titles and the era's most powerful witch. The Lost Hero.

The dead Hero.

Very different individuals with very differing ideals, gathered in the same room by an enigmatic man.

For their paths to have crossed, it tickled Viper's curiosity of what their future would lead to.


	11. Chapter 11

**This was something I wrote, like, a couple of months ago. Started it and just, forgot. It doesn't necessarily have to be the KHR world since I didn't even get half-way to it, and it could be up for adoption or something. Like just the idea of it, I mean.**

...**Anyways, please enjoy.**

**(AND IF YOU DO WROTE SOMETJING LIKE THIS, OR KNOW A STORY LIKE THIS, PLEASE TELL ME, I'D LOVE TO READ IT)**

Warmth from the crackling fire battled with the cold of the Russian winter. Huddled inside an abandoned house as she already was, removed from the freezing wind, and wrapped in a thick coat with heating charms, Harley could still feel the impulse to shiver and curl tighter.

She played with her fingers, twisting and turning them to keep the blood flowing.

This body was unbelievably fragile even for a child, she didn't know when it could fall ill or even just fall and bleed, so worrying over it had just become a constant preoccupation always at the front of her mind. It was safe to say she'd grown paranoid when it concerned her body's state.

She absently pawed on the ground around her, searching for that wrinkle of paper. She picked up the ham sandwich. It was still warm thanks to the stasis spell.

She relished it. From what she'd deduced, he'd gone through quite the trouble to get it for her.

A low creak. The door.

"Harley."

She tilted her head in his direction in acknowledgment, cheeks stuffed. His footsteps neared her.

"Are you cold?"

"Shouldn't you be worrying more for yourself? You just came from outside. Seat beside me."

He clicked his tongue, "Honestly, what are you, three? Don't speak when your mouth's full."

He pressed against her. She searched for his hand with hers.

"No, I'm seven." She snarked.

"Then act your age. I didn't eat like that when I was seven."

She shot him -where she thought his face was at least- a look. That was just an unfair comparison.

An arm wrapped a blanket around the both of them. A new find. He'd most likely already made any necessary repairs and adjustments.

Who would've ever thought, that when she'd finally died, it was Draco Malfoy of all people who would be by her side? It was just a relief that he was there too when, against all odds, she was reincarnated in another world. As a blind, orphaned girl.

The fact that he'd taken it upon himself to care for her was just... Well, no one back home would've believed it.

Truly, one could never know where life (and death) would take you.

LINESLINESLINESWHATTHEHELLFANFICTIONDON'TSTEALMYLINES

They still banter. They still snark and sass each other but now, it wasn't as sharp anymore and Harley had come to consider it as just their _thing._

Their. Them.

Her. And this guy she might've called her brother if not that she didn't want his already inflated head to grow even bigger.

... It still felt weird to call him that, even just in her mind, when you considered the whole dynamic of the relationship they had in their previous life.

Or maybe not. Maybe, rather than _despite _it, it's _because _of it.

And living in the harsh conditions they had, Harley supposed they were bound to have bonded. Or became a pair of iceblocks and died. Or rather just her, because at this point she's still wholly dependant on him for her survival.

She hadn't even grasped the language yet, which was apparently Russian, which Draco actually knew even before then as a Malfoy.

Now, they were just Harley, and just Draco.

No Potter. No pretending to know what she even was doing, No one to look towards her to lead and fight, No prophecies of greatness.

No Malfoy. No duty, No pureblood, No footsteps to follow and trail after.

No saviour, no noble, nothing.

Just two random waifs doing their best to survive with the hand they were given.

It's... She never mentioned it aloud, for fear of triggering something better left untouched, but she thought that this simple and almost rough lifestyle suited them rather well. There was an odd contentment to it.

LINESLINESLINESLINESLINESLINESLINESLINES

They didn't have magic this time around. Her body an achingly empty shell _(n__ot really, there was something there, just at the edge, peeking-)._

It had shattered her at the beginning.

After all, she was stripped of literally everything she had and more.

It was only when she'd finally looked up from her hopelessness -not too long because she'd always been more of the doer than a brooder (though it admittedly didn't fall too far in quota)- that she noticed.

_She _didn't have magic anymore. The same didn't go for everything else.

From there, it was a quick uphill. Harley had never been the most studious, but casting magic, bending it to her whims -that was something she could do.

Harley was a witch and would always be one.

That was how Draco tracked her. He'd felt her activity -the deference magic gave her- and supposedly with not even a moments hesitation, packed up and left.

She hadn't gotten from him anything about his life before coming to her yet.

Now, they're utilizing magic with the ease of a lifetime's practice, slowly but steadily inching their way out of this winter wonderland.

LINESLINESLINESITHINKIMIGHT'VEMISPLACEDSOMELINESMAYBE

Oh, it wasn't like Draco and her first few days were immediately smooth-sailing.

Far from it.

All those animosity didn't just get washed away. They stayed as surely as their nightmares did. Dampened by the instinct to band together in a time of difficulty and a truce once agreed upon but still there. The prejudices. The silent judgement.

It was quite the headache and a half.

There was frustrations thrown around, grief and the silent but loud 'why couldn't you have been her/him instead'. Indeed, a headache and a half.

Somehow though, through perseverance that Harley didn't know the source of, they waded through the decades worth of issues and reached an understanding. An understanding that it was literally them against the world now.

At first it was a trickle. Her telling him of stories of her past shenanigans and adventures. Then he'd tell stories of himself. And then he'd talk about this world, describing every nuance and comparing them to their previous world's -or rather his, since he never even stepped on muggle soil before.

**Though if this was a KHR, then she would definitely be Viper. Because you might not have figured it out yet, but Viper is my absolute favourite.**

**I even had some (other) unfinished pieces around (scattered. somewhere) that features Tom Riddle as a female Viper. One being that the Magical World and Khr are one and the same and FEM!Tom or Mary, after...things happen, and some other things... doesn't go to Hogwarts, gets kidnapped, follows around Herpo the Foul...you know, the works. Eventually, she becomes Arcobaleno.**

**The other one, features Tom Riddle post-Voldemort. As in, Harry kills him, he dies (of course) reincarnated in another world where there's no magical SOCIETY (but there are magical creatures and some witch and wizard stragglers scattered around the world) and proceeds to become a criminal. Of course. In the muggle mafia of all places that, shockingly enough, isn't anything like the movies showed them to be.**

**It just makes sense to me. I mean, Viper has Phantasma. That's pretty much all I need. And besides, I don't really believe the canon!Harry can ever become a part of an assassination squad. Maybe. I mean, there are fan fiction writers out there who could twist it just right. ANYWAYS,...**

**Yeah, I guess that's all I have to say for the most part, I can't remember, I'm just typing here and I think I was supposed to have a point there but kind of lost it...**

**Yeah.**


	12. Chapter 12

"Yo."

Fon blinked placidly, "Hello. They're calling you Colonnello now, is it?"

"Yeah, kora." He sat beside him, their tiny infantile legs dangling over the edge of the rooftop, eyes on the horizon.

These days, no one seemed to be able to meet anyone's gaze anymore.

The contrast of such cold eyes paired with the faces of infants reminded them starkly of the curse.

The people they left. The people who left them. The world that went on and on and on while they- they were left in that moment on the peak of that thrice blasted mountain.

The ones who walk out of time.

"Kind of surprising you're still here. You seem to always have a job ready in China."

Their whole lives had been upended, but in their line of job, such matters like their current forms actually mattered very little. As long as they stayed in this world, they'd be able to resume working no problems.

"...The Arcobaleno. The previous ones..."

"...Hm? What about it?"

"I've heard of them."

"Who hasn't?"

"Faceless enigma credited for feats impossible for anyone else... No wonder." Fon huffed in weary amusement.

"...Yeah, no wonder." Colonnello agreed wryly.

Fon looked down on his lap. Comically small. Like everything else about him was.

It wasn't funny.

It _burned._

Many things ran through their heads -things left unsaid.

From inside the House, they heard glass shattering. Fon turned to look, brows furrowed.

It could only have been Viper.

Ever since the Fated Day, they had been lashing out at everyone around them, Reborn in particular who had actively banned them from going out.

Unsaid was that he actually meant that they weren't allowed to leave.

Just as their temper had become remarkably shorter, Reborn had turned more compulsive with his controlling tendencies. In particular with the two youngest, Viper and Skull. It only got worse after Luce's death.

Fon himself was aware of his recently despondent attitude.

"... I'm going back inside. See if Lal needs some help calming them down."

Fon nodded, hesitating before deciding to just stay put.

Colonnello side eyed him. "Aren't you going to come with?"

"I fear I might just worsen the situation. Viper, is not overly fond of me."

Even while admitting such a thing, the Storm still smiled. The smile Colonnello noticed seemed to only be reserved for their resident Mist.

"...If you say so."

Fon watched the sky gradually darken and the sun set, keeping an ear to the others. Slowly, the Household settled down.

With his back to them and pretending that it was just another day in a parallel universe where the Fated Day never happened, Fon felt just a bit better. It was unhealthy, indulging in such delusion.

Just this once though, he'll allow himself to spoil.


	13. Chapter 13

**Canon World!**

**Reborn and Viper's child.**  
**_**

"You're... not very good at this, are you?" Renato said, looking over Viper's shoulder.

The pot -a heavy metal cauldron that Viper had pulled out of nowhere- was looking out of place on the stove. It had simmered and boiled earlier but now with the fire turned off, the air was clearing of the odd smell that had wafted off of it with Renato opening the windows.

The fact that what should've been a soup with how much water Viper had poured into it was now a pink, gloppy, solid blob, might not be such an improvement though.

There wasn't anything pink in the ingredients.

"...you think." Viper snarled, a hint of red peeking from under their cowl, "I _told _you I can't cook."

Indeed they had, but Skull had just accused them of being lazy and everyone else just agreed that they must just want to be paid and shirk from dinner duty.

Renato didn't even attempt to hide the curve of his lips. He could _feel _their glare burning on the side of his face.

"Well, since I'm nice, I'll get rid of this." and with a snap of his fingers, he shot a lick of his Sun Flames to the... thing.

Out of all the Flames, Sun Flames were actually the only Flames that could _light _something. Storm was too intense it just outright disintegrated things, Lightning zapped things, Rain shouldn't even be counted as Flames as it was more water, and Mist and Cloud had zero burning properties unless in the Mist's case, it was purposefully constructed as such.

Renato's Flames _didn't _burn the result of Viper's version of cooking.

Instead, the pair's eyes widened and they watched as it jerked. And then wiggled. And rolled over on its... other side, plopping on the blackened bottom of the cauldron.

"... I'm really starting to wonder about you Viper. Are you _sure _you're human?"

"...relatively?"

"That doesn't comfort me."

Glug!

They reeled back when the... thing, split open and what must be its mouth produced the gurgling sound.

"..._Holy shit Viper! Holy shit! _We created the anti-christ!"

"What-?! No! Shut up! Don't say it! It'll come true!"

Stubs for arms and legs sprouted and it heaved itself up the lip of the pot and they finally decided that they couldn't let it go further. Viper grabbed the closest thing -one of Luce's dinner plates- and threw it. They _almost _hit -better than what Renato expected of the only person he never saw participate in a single thing that could've been classified as an exercise- and it broke against the wall behind the now dubbed 'anti-christ'.

It ate the shattered remains and they saw it melt inside AC. Then AC grew spikes on its back.

"...It _is _the anti-christ." Renato had just mostly been joking.

Viper snorted uneasily, "There are weirder things out there. It _can't_ be the anti-christ."

Otherwise, Viper might be accused of being the cause of the end of the world and the money that would cost them...

It tripped trying to get out of its cradle and then accidentally shoved the pot to the floor and fell straight on the stove. One of its arms hit the switch and fire turned on.

It didn't burn.

"I'll go call Feng!" Viper yelped, turning around.

"No! You're not going to leave me here!" Renato screamed, grabbing them by the collar.

Then he ran to it, ripped the stove from the counter while carefully avoiding the AC and tossed it out of the window -into the running river a few meters away- with a loud splash.

"What's happening here? We heard something fall- is that a cauldron?! And where is the stove?!"

Verde barged in, Lightning Flames running up and down his coat. Behind him the others trailed after and not a second later Feng appeared in a blur from the other side of the property.

"...we're going out for dinner. My treat." Viper said flatly.

The latter was a pointed bribe for Renato to not say a word. Not that he was planning to, of course.

This was something that would stay between them.

The child of the devil personified and the 'maybe-actually-a-devil-because-you-can't-really-tell-under-that-hood'.


	14. Chapter 14

PART 1

A poke had her turning her head from Lestrange.

"Yes, what is it Orion?" she demanded not unkindly.

They liked it when she called them by first name. It pleased them, to be shown such blatant proof that they were counted in her 'inner circle'.

It had been a hard fight to rise to the top among the purebloods, as a nobody with an unknown family name and somehow doubly so as a woman. Misogynistic idiots, the lot of them.

But she showed them. Now look at how they catered to her every whim.

"Regarding what you said last time, " he began quietly, but evenly, "I have the book."

She smiled and she could see the faintest of pink rise to his cheeks.

Again. Misogynistic, hypocritical, idiots.

In the end, they would still fall to their knees to a woman.

"Thank you. It's very much appreciated. I'll meet you in the common room then?"

"Yeah," he murmured -because a pureblood wouldn't mumble like a mudblood lout.

Mary had to admit though, he was endearing.

She felt a gaze burning the side of her head. Looking up, she was utterly unsurprised to meet a pair of blue eyes absent of its usual twinkle.

Reinforcing her occlumency -just in case (he _was _still one of the most powerful wizards)-, she almost rolled her eyes.

This man... honestly. You'd think she was out to enslave the world- oh, yeah, right.

Still, he could be a bit less obvious with his bias. But then again, seeing the mudblood lover Dumbledore obviously against her only fuelled her reputation amongst the pureblood supremacists. So she guessed everything was all good in the end.

The annual Hogwarts dinner ended as peacefully as ever.  
_

Throwing herself back on her bed in the Slytherin dorms, Mary sighed. She was getting nowhere with this.

The soul. Yes, the soul was largely intangible but it still very much existed. Yes, it was the essence of a person's being. It didn't matter what race you were, as long as you had even the slightest sentience, you had a soul.

What she had problems searching for, was how to reach into it so she could manipulate it for her first horcrux.

She was missing something.

She herself didn't have the resources, but she did have the people with the resources. Only problem was, if this was discovered, all her hard work would shatter to tiny unmendable pieces. Even to the darkest of the darkest house, tampering with the soul was taboo.

Who would've thought?

She would've to search somewhere else.  
_

Mary literally fell to her knees laughing when she finally managed to strangle a lead.

The muggle world. The Mafia, more specifically.

Of all the places, what she needed -the missing link- was in the muggle world.

There was something ironic there.

Basically, a mage's magic in itself was another armour to protect one's soul. Meaning, magic pretty much shoved down the soul to the deepest darkest corner of the person and cottoned it on all sides, like a bullet proof vest and a glass case combined if you would. That was why she was having a hell of a time reaching to her soul.

Mary, even among the celebrated wizards and witches, had one of the biggest capacity when it came to the magic she could produce.

So if she wanted to reach her soul, she'd have to dig _pretty freakin' _deep.

How the muggles stumbled upon this, she wasn't interested. What she was though, was how, exactly, they could utilize the soul the way they did.

Weapons. Almost like magic actually.

She herself hadn't thought of this when searching for her project. In fact, unconsciously, she'd regarded her soul as just something to tear apart as a means to an end -which was immortality, by the way.

The things these Soul Flames could do... well, she could do it with magic too, but not as specialized or concentrated.

After all, magic was, first and foremost, versatility. Jack of all trades and all that.

It could do things Soul Flames could only ever dream of, but it wouldn't be able to do what Soul Flames _did _do with as much efficiency and power. It was balance, as there was in all things.

And Mary, she was determined to get the best of both worlds.

**_**  
**You know about that whole 'Dumbledore is a sanctimonious manipulative For-the-Greater-Good fanatic'? Yeah, that. I don't buy it.**

**I mean, think about it. In the HP world, prophecies were a thing that comes true. I notice a lot of people are willing to discount it. If people could read minds, take their soul apart, talk to snakes, become a dog, a stag, a rat, rearrange memories, ****_make a book dance the can-can,_**** why couldn't prophecies be legit too? And Dumbledore knew that one way or another, Harry and Tom were bound to cross paths. And I think rather than being unsympathetic to his plight, Dumbledore was actually very much sympathetic. (If he wasn't, surely there's tons of ways out there to make a helpless, defenceless, boy your own saviour pet. Heck, amortentia him and bam, fuck all morals, its for the Greater Good anyways')**

**It's the same logic as in, 'better learn to do it now in a controlled environment where people can come to your aid and hold your hand rather than in the midst of when you really need it'.**

** 'better learn how to wield a bloody sword to slay a giant Basilisk somewhere where I can send an all healing Phoenix to you rather than in the middle of a battlefield.' Or, 'better to learn to know your limits, what you can do and what you can't, rather than while locking wands with a mad but very much powerful and once a genius man fifty years your senior and experience'. Or, 'better you get desensitized to near death moments when the knight suits, gargoyles, and other spells casted in the castle to keep the students safe in a magical school that is one of the most fortified place in the whole Britain can swoop in and save you if you really need it, rather than in the middle of the battlefield where you could possibly freeze up in a crucial moment when you really need to ****_move'._**

**Dumbledore was his mentor in more ways than one.**

**I believe that first and second year, Dumbledore had a hand in it. As in, he allowed the events to play. But third year and up was completely out of his control. Dumbledore is still human, still has a shitload of responsibilities being with all his title, there's a limit to how much he can do until he just wouldn't have the time for being all manipulative and control freak with Harry's life. Unless he used a time Turner for that. Or cloned himself. Or used a house elf to drink polyjuice potion (or not) to do his work while he plots.**

**...You know what, you're right.**

**Manipulative Dumbledore actually****_ is _****possible with magic being a thing.**


	15. Chapter 15

Rather than _reaching into it, _as she had been trying to do, the common practice in the Mafia was _pulling_ at it. Luring it out, for lack of a better word.

It wasn't like magic, with a measure of awareness to it. In magic, rather than bending it to your will, it was more convincing it to agree with you.

Soul Flames -Or Dying Will Flames- was completely, and entirely yours. You _own it. _And just that had already earned Mary's favour.

This piece of knowledge and some other small nuances that only someone mafia-born could know, was information that was both difficult and easy to have come by.

Seeing as Mary was a civilian, if she was to be honest, she'd actually acquired the information more with luck. She'd portkeyed to Italy, Rome with the help of Abraxas' contacts in the magical smuggling business -in exchange for teaching him Occlumency (she actually benefited the most here contrary to his belief since she also mastered legilimency while 'helping' him)-, planning to infiltrate the criminal society before then quite literally stumbling in an alley where an idiot and another idiot were conducting _business._

She still had the trace, of course. But -as she'd learned from Greengrass- it wasn't like the trace was on her. Just her wand. And she'd used enough expelliarmus to do it wandlessly if not wordlessly.

And then, when she'd knocked them out by slamming them to the wall with two overpowered expelliarmus, tying them up became a simple matter. She'd waited for when the first one regained consciousness and pounced on him with Legilimency -because she wasn't good enough yet to go shuffling around someone's head when they're asleep though it would definitely be next on the list. She slit his throat before then doing the same with other too, after determining that they had no further use.

So now, Mary was somewhere in a random abandoned building, taking shelter and contemplating her next actions.

First, what was the end goal anyways? Immortality.

To do that, she'd need to gain access to her Soul so that she could start the process for a horcrux. Which would involve tearing in into pieces.

...hm, perhaps it was a bit late, but she thought she was now seeing what every one else did.

Tearing a soul is such a waste.

Since it's also another source of power that had _so much potential _to it.

Mary would _hate _to have to waste it. Really she _would._

Besides, there were more than one ways to achieve immortality anyways. It's not like a person had more than one soul.

And ooooh, she _wanted it._

Something that was utterly, entirely, _hers. _Magic was great, wonderful, majestic, but it was... Magic.

Not hers.  
_

And that was how Viper was born.

This was kept entirely hush hush of course, locked in the deepest recesses of her mind and almost completely erased from her waking consciousness by the time she was back at Hogwarts. It wouldn't do for either school of thought to find out about her summer escapades in the muggle criminal world.

But it wasn't like her school life was completely untouched. For one, she was back to square one on the matter of immortality. Potions, relics, rituals, everything was perused for a formula for immortality. And two, she discovered that the magical world wasn't entirely unaware of the parallel of a magical society in the muggle world, just...

Magical Britain and other European countries had all but forgotten it, the secret society of Flames being just passively mentioned in some very select literature. Italy was another thing entirely though, being the metaphorical nest of Western Mafia.

But it still wasn't... interactive. The Statue of Secrecy -first implemented some times in the dark ages (just a bit befoe the Mafia) in Salem and then later spreading like wildfire in the West and adapted by a large part of the East- and the Omerta neatly divided all three worlds.

Mary imagined it like a Venn Diagram with three circles.

The Soul society, magical society, then the mundane world.

Mary had the privilege of being a part of it all. But that was just expected. Mary was, well, _Mary._

"You seem happy, Riddle." Malfoy prompted.

Mary smiled at him, a baring of teeth in the dark of the common room. "I am."

That was more than he needed to know.

"What about you Malfoy, _you _don't seem happy?"

His sneer was cruel, "Adonis."

Ah. Of course. That Veela that had been hanging onto him in every party the Malfoys hosted and that his parents had told him to please. The reason for his investments in the mind arts protection.

Though there was still a heavy influence of the females are delicate and weaker mindset, Mary had been amazed to realise that relationship among same sex was practically a norm at least in this part of the magical world.

Adonis wasn't actually his name but it was what he introduced himself to them as. Abraxas was probably hoping to vent to her but it wasn't like Mary was a good friend. She could pretend but didn't mean she did when she could get away with it. Abraxas was perhaps the closest to being a 'best friend' she had so she could leave knowing that he wouldn't think of her oddly or out of character of 'Mary Sue' Mary.

He should be honoured she was so honest to him.

"Well, I'm off to do something away from your general area." she didn't let him get a word before skipping away.  
_

aknight reply.  
Yes. self-fulfilling. But the prophecy did not include Dumbledore. The prophecy became true the moment Voldemort decided to send Bellatrix to the Longbottom's while he went Potter hunting. If not the Dursley's (muggle with no Imperius or any other form of instant mind control) who else would he send him to? I'd think magic would take care of its kids so no random person (maybe well intended or maybe not) would qualify right? Not even taking into account that you don't know who you can trust in the time with the Boy-Who-Lived. One of James' friends (wether the mistaken Sirius or the spy Peter) had sold them to the enemy and the Marauders had been together since Hogwarts. Tight as tight could be (They became illegal animagus for their equally illegal werewolf friend). Other pureblood family who are distant relatives? But probably hated Lily or James or loved Lily, hated James, or loved James, hated Lily. Too unpredictable._ Snape__?! _Yeah, no. That'd be sending both baby and man the deep end because double spy Severus. Longbottom granny? She didn't sound like anyone who'd unconditionally love the person who (essentially, depending on your point of view) got her son and daughter-in-law targeted by the mad Black Sister. Maybe. But it's not like Dumbledore can just ask that and Lady Longbottom would fess up to maybe (maybe not) hating a toddler. The blacks?... (Andromeda I think is the most likely) Sirius was the black sheep of the blacks, and somehow people still got it that he actually betrayed his best friends so I don't think the Blacks are trusted much and someone is bound to violently protest. Who else? At least with Dusleys, there was neglect, maybe emotional abuse (I don't think physical abuse is considered_ normal, _unlike two boys getting rough) but there are certainties. No mind control, no cashing in his fame, no brainwashing of loyalty (_Why _would they?).

That said, it's not like I'm hating on Dumbledore bashing. Even I like reading stories like that sometimes and fan fiction is fan fiction. fufu.


	16. Chapter 16

The morning after the Arcobaleno Representative Battles, Tsuna had collapsed face first on his bed.

Pretty sure he was already sleeping at that point. It was probably his most peaceful one yet.

When he opened his eyes again, his world was already turned upside down for the second time in his life and a hundred search parties around the world had already been deployed, from the Giglio Nero, to Varia, to the Kokuyo Gang. All stops were pulled.

All eight Arcobaleno had disappeared off the face of the earth.

Reborn was gone.  
_

10 years later.

Tsuna watched his reflection, fiddling with his collar and cuffs, and pulling at his hair in futility.

"Tsuna-kun~, Did you miss me~?"

"We saw each other just yesterday Byakuran." In fact, if anything, it's the opposite of missing him. Two, maybe three, Byakuran-less days would be a Godsend miracle.

"And also, stop messing with Rui-kun."

Right on cue, a man -boy, really, in his late teens- barged in with guns blazing. Literally.

Byakuran dove to the side behind an antique cherrywood desk.

Rui shot the window sill, bouncing off the bullet expertly. It grazed Byakuran's cheek, leaving everything else but the carpet intact.

Tsuna grinned. This is why Rui was one of his favourites. His temper and violence wasn't costly.

He was the antithesis of a certain pair among his own guardians.

"Tsunaaaaaa~ your subordinate is bullying me~ this is so unfair~ why do you get all the violent people~"

...really?

The look he gave the white haired man clearly sent the sentiment.

"So I guess your people are just mentally-disturbed and Varia are just psychopathic." Is there a difference? Really, the only one with normal people in their family was Dino.

And his looked like they bench press elephants for warm ups.

Then as if recalling something, Byakuran perked up -also conveniently ignoring his remark. Rui silently made his exit.

"Why aren't you nicer to me? Don't you remember, this is our anniversary. Or rather, today is the day we met. Meet. Will meet."

"...so shouldn't I actually be meaner to you?" he deadpanned. Ah, he hadn't even started the day but his energy level were already being rapidly drained.

"What?! Nonesense! This should be the day we commemorate the twist of fate that led to us becoming best friends!"

...He wasn't going to comment on that.

Had he already forgotten? Byakuran was pretty much Tsuna's first kill.

Tsuna nudged Byakuran from under his desk with his foot and took a seat. "Is that really all you came here for?"

His goofy expression abruptly fell and Byakuran stood up, patting down himself of dust. The flash of distance in his gaze and the furrow in his brows had Tsuna concerned.

Byakuran was hesitating.

He was not a man that hesitated.

Another famiglia making trouble? A rat? Another plot?

No, none of that was enough to make Byakuran act like this.

...sigh. It made Tsuna think of omens.

Byakuran was an omen of big things to come. Somehow, of the people around Tsuna, he was always the first one to get his grubby fingers on the juicy parts. He knew for a fact that it irked Mukuro -this omnipotent act Byakuran loved to rub into his face.

"Let's go have coffee."

If not for the ringing- no, _blaring _in his head, he might've thought that this was another one of Byakuran's schemes to get 'alone time' with him.

His reply was immediate, "Ok."  
_

Tsuna glanced around the establishment they entered in curiosity. From their base in Tokyo to here, they had to drive for around four to five hours. Just right on time for lunch.

It has a relaxing ambience, with browns and muted blues mostly. But it was also nothing special, and nothing in his senses stood out. Except...

Something was here. Rather, someone.

"Are we going to meet someone here?"

Byakuran hummed, taking a seat somewhere tucked away in a corner, "In a sense."

Tsuna followed him suit, picking up the menu to disguise him looking around and closely examining the other customers.

"Aren't you going to explain?"

He smiled mischievously, "It's better if you see it for yourself."

Tsuna shot him a puzzled look.

"Good morning sirs, can I get your order?"

He looked up, meeting a pair of gray eyes so pale it brought to mind moonlight.

Dressed in a red uniform with a white apron and dark brown boots, a girl no older than thirteen at most waited on them. Purple hair cut close to the jaw contrasted her pale fair skin. Dark eyelashes curled around almond shaped eyes, bordered by a button nose. Her pouty lips were curved in a light smile.

She was beautiful.

And no, Tsuna wasn't being creepy. It was fact.

...what was she doing working as a waitress? And why was she familiar?

He'd definitely remember seeing a face like that before, more like, she somehow felt familiar. It's at the tip of his tongue.

"Um..." Tsuna floundered stunned.

He accidentally caught a boy's eyes and the kid actually smirked knowingly. He inwardly despaired.

He chanced a glance at the girl and discovered that she didn't even bat an eyelash. In fact, she looked unperturbed. As if used to it.

Byakuran sniggered at him, then waved the girl towards himself, "Two fried rice, ramen, sushi -surprise us-, a pitcher of ice tea, nachos, then a little bit later two banana split. What else Tsuna?"

"Ah... er... Rather than steak, I'll have okonomiyaki, I think."

"I see. Please be patient, you'll have it as soon as possible." she said before turning away to leave.

Byakuran called out, "Wait, you're a local, yes?"

Tsuna looked at him incredulously. What was he doing? How many times had the ex Milliefore boss denied the accusations of being a lolicon and yet he now sounded like he was talking up a highschooler.

She hesitated before saying, "I work here."

A safe answer. Good, good.

Byakuran rolled his eyes at Tsuna.

"Honestly, why do you think I brought you all the way here?"

"To mooch off of me?"

"That- okay, fair point. But weren't you searching for somewhere to build that new project of yours."

"...yeah." But he seriously doubted that was the real reason for this incognito trip of theirs. But if that's what he wanted the people around them to think, Tsuna will go along with it.

"There's a plot of land at the outskirts a bit of a walk from the living district. Am I right?" he addressed the last part to the girl.

Byakuran watched Tsuna intently. Expectantly.

Why was he keeping the girl from leaving?

She titled her head cutely, "Yeah. It's very wide. Enough for like, seven times this building."

Tsuna blinked, genuinely interested now, "Really? What about the soil? Grass and such, are there like bits of cement or something?"

"I... don't know more but no, it's just dirt everywhere. My siblings and I used to play there together with the other children. Those that don't want to be caught by their parents you know, when they did something wrong"

Tsuna smiled wryly at that, briefly recalling all his own escapades when he was younger. Which, inevitably, reminded him of Reborn.

That's when it hit him.

It hit him so hard his eyes widened and he choked. He did a double-take on the girl -who looked at him in concern.

In the mafia, it's standard procedure to identify someone by their flames. It's not something one can easily do in long distances but easily achieved when face to face. Subconsciously, he'd felt this girl's too but didn't pay attention to it because of the civilian environment.

"Sir? Are you alright? Should I get you water?"

He bobbed his head frantically, anything to make her leave and let him think.

Byakuran looked at him smugly.

Long thought to be dead, hope rose inside of him, filling him to the point that he thought he could explode. His heart quaked. It was too late to be cautious now.

He's already high with the 'yes! yes! yes!' feeling. If they were wrong, this was going to hurt like hell.

But Byakuran knew how much this meant to him and they're at the point of their relationship where neither would carelessly dangle false hope in front of the other.

Clumsily, almost frantically, he retrieved his phone from his suit.  
_

BANG!

"VOOOIII! Boss! The Vongola trash said to meet him ASAP!"

Xanxus raised an eyebrow. Leviathan rose to the challenge.

"Who does he think he is to order Boss around?! The guts of that brat!"

"Um, he's the Vongola Boss?" Fran deadpanned, sprawled upside down the couch.

"Ushishishi~ the commoner actually grew some balls. Ordering Boss around." Belphegor cackled.

Squalo sneered, "He texted 'Varia. Come here. ASAP'. He meant all of us."

"Ho? All of us? where does he mean by here?" Lussuria asked, a pair of dumbbells in his hands and sweating profusely.

"Nevermind that! How dare he speak to us like that! Do we look like gophers?!"

"You do." Fran quipped.

Squalo frowned, "He didn't say, I guess it's up to us to track him or something."

Belphegor randomly kicked at Fran, "Who cares about that brat-"

Ting! Ting!

Squalo clicked the new message uninterestedly. Whatever the shitty brat said wouldn't make a difference. Xanxus was still lounging in his throne, stuffing himself with steak and not looking like he was going to be moving anytime soon.

He read the short mail. Then reread it.

Then reread it again.

He read it a few more times before staring at the screen blankly.

Fran watched his facial expressions shift from disbelief, shock, and then even wonder. To make the long haired commander look like that, he wondered what it was.

Then Squalo opened his mouth and Fran thought for a second he'd gone deaf with the sheer volume. Did the foundations of the hundreds years old mansion actually shake?

"VOOOIIIIIII! GET UP YOU FUCKERS! WE'RE GOING TO SLAUGHTER THOSE VONGOLA BASTARDS IF THEY'RE LYING!"

Lussuria dropped the dumbbells, making craters. Xanxus actually spat out his wine and Fran took the chance to kick an unguarded Bel off of the couch they'd been fighting over.

Wha-!

"HE SAID HE FOUND MAMMON!"

Stunned silence.

The group of assassins processed those words then-

The room exploded into action.

Bel stabbed Fran with a cheer, racing towards the car's driver seat. Squalo, Lussuria, and Leviathan tried to overtake him but he slammed the door only a few inches from their fingers.

They cursed. This was the last car of the week. The other seventeen had already been towed to the junkyard. They would have no choice but to suffer Bel's driving skills.

Xanxus calmly sat in the back seat. In the end, pale and dreading, Fran had the misfortune of having to seat in the passenger's seat.


	17. Chapter 17

"... Tsuna-kun, slow down."

"Ajghgahahajgcdgbdrsagagcsaf..."

"...are those even words?"

Tsuna guzzled down ice tea, clearing his throat. He was so anxious he couldn't stop shovelling food in his mouth.

"She mentioned siblings. Do you think..."

Byakuran dug around his pockets, pulling out nine pictures. "That's the Watanabe children. They're originally a group of orphans from different orphanages, but due to a series of coincidences, somehow or another, they became acquainted. The eldest is Yuan Watanabe, 21 years old. He has custody of the younger ones."

He tapped the picture of a younger man with dark green hair, green eyes, square glasses, lightly tanned skin, and wearing casual polo, jeans, and shoes. The photo was taken on a random street.

The hair was much darker, his signature labcoat was missing, and he looked younger -or rather older- but undoubtedly, it was Verde.

Tsuna could feel his heart rising up in his throat and he finally pinpointed a boy with curly sideburns, dark eyes, dark skin, wearing a taunting smirk and a generic uniform, and a bag slung over his shoulder among the photos.

... He looked fourteen? fifteen?

"Ha... Ha... haha..."

Oh the irony.

Tsuna felt tears gather in the corner of his eyes.

Bang!

"VOOOIIIII! Vongola trash! Prepare to die!"

Well that cleared his tears very quickly.

Conspicuously wiping at his cheeks, he saw the other customers watch nervously as the Varia approached him. Belphegor flashed a grown man a smile. Tsuna sympathized with his apparent desire to run.

He wished he could pretend he didn't know them.

"I thought you guys were in Italy, how did you get here in three hours?"

"Ways." Fran shrugged.

"So where the fuck are they, trash?"

Taking their seat, Lussuria made sure to press against Byakuran. Tsuna was torn between pitying him or taking glee in his situation.

He frowned uneasily at Xanxus, uncertain how his news would be received.

"That's the thing. I don't think Mammon-san actually remembers that they're, well, Mammon-san."

A silence fell on the table.

"What? Why?" Belphegor demanded nastily.

"I don't think any of them remembers. My people have been watching them for months and yet, nothing. No illegal activities, not even flames. For all intents and purposes, if not for their identity, they're just normal people. Kind of." Byakuran informed the table as a whole.

"The fuck we care about the rest! You said months. Why weren't we told of this!" Squalo glared at Tsuna as if it was his fault.

"H-Hey, I just found out about it today too-"

"Shut up, trash."

From the way he glared at them, Tsuna concluded that Xanxus meant it in plural. The older man's eyes were trained on the counter. More specifically, the door beside it leading to the kitchens. This caught the rest of the Varia's attention.

"Boss?" Levi asked.

Xanxus pushed himself up with predatory grace, eyes hard. "I don't care what their reasons are. In the end, they still haven't reported for ten years now. They're already past the deadline, I'll drag them back myself if I have to."

...eh?

Ah! Of course he would know Mammon's flame signature well.

"W, wait! Xanxus, you don't understand-" Tsuna attempted to stop him. He was ignored.

"Yeah!" Bel exclaimed, "Mammy's in trouble~"

"Wait, you guys, there's something you have to know-"

"VOOOOIIII! Mammon! Get the fuck out of here!"

The Varia rallied.

... its in these kinds of situations that Tsuna wished he had Mist Flames to turn invisible with. Like what Fran did.

It was hard not to notice the ruckus they were causing and the person handling the counter was quick to call the manager.

"Sirs, Please calm down, what is the meaning of this?"

"Get out of the way motherfucker! We're here for Mammon!"

"S-sir?! Please mind your language, there are children here! And you must be mistaken, no one here is called Mammon."

Xanxus shoved the guy away. Tsuna whimpered. He just knew he'd be the one paying for this.

He always did.

The manager screamed, hitting the corner of the desk. The girl who called him shrieked in alarm. A customer was speaking to her phone, calling for the police.

And Tsuna couldn't bring himself to stop them.

Because he remembered all those enemy (just suspected, really, they never actually did anything to earn Varia's ire) famiglia Xanxus had razed to the ground, the people Squalo screamed at, the multiple breakdowns Belphegor had, and just the general darkness that had consumed the Varia in the earlier years of their search for Mammon.

Tsuna stayed his hands and watched the train wreck with a smiling Byakuran.

As if entering the stage, the door from the kitchen swung open and Mammon slipped through with a tray of dishes, face adorably scrunched in confusion. From here, Tsuna could see the rest of the staff behind her, drawn by the noises.

Xanxus abruptly stopped before her. Did he expect the infant Mammon? He probably did, huh.

Mammon gazed up at him warily, eyes absent of recognition.

...Tsuna wondered how it would feel, when Reborn would look at him with those same eyes.

The other officers also screeched to a halt, stunned.

Mammon blinked at them. Then looked around at the mess they made.

The manager ran towards her, pushing her back inside and behind him, "It's dangerous here Mayumi-chan, please stay inside."

He faced the Varia, chest puffing, obviously doing his best not to fold in front of such intimidating and wild looking men, "Please leave the premises or we will call the police-"

Too late. The sirens could be heard even from here.

Xanxus hadn't moved his glare from the bewildered preteen. When he looked at the manager, the man flinched.

Squalo clicked his tongue, "Come on, Boss. Let's leave."

For now.

Tsuna imagined he wasn't the only one who heard it.

"...I bet fifty we'll be waiting somewhere to ambush Maestra." Fran said, watching his co-workers make their exits.

Tsuna felt his soul start to wilt, "Aren't you guys professionals? Shouldn't you guys be more, I don't know, _professional?"_

Byakuran chuckled. Oh, he's enjoying this wasn't he? Bastard.

"If you haven't noticed yet girly Vongola number one, we're nothing but a bunch of primitive savage beasts when we're not killing people. Except for the stupid Prince. He's always primitive."

... there's something wrong with the things he said, Tsuna just couldn't pinpoint it- oh wait, maybe _everything?_

Tsuna saw the manager heading towards him. Likely, he'd heard that they were with him.

He grabbed Byakuran's sleeve and ran after Leviathan.

Years of experience had let him adapt and evolve.

And just as Fran predicted, the Varia waited on a random rooftop overlooking the eatery the thirteen year old (and very female) Mammon was working at. To add to that, Tsuna was dragged with them.

Insurance, Squalo said. So that if this turned out to be fake news, then there'd be someone close by they could vent on.

Byakuran tagged along willingly, looking like he was watching a Broadway show.

They waited for three hours. The sky was already painted orange by the time Mammon -or rather Mayumi wasn't it- slipped through the backdoor, dressed in a baggy cream coloured sweater and a green skirt.

Tsuna marvelled at the novelty of it.

This was Mammon the Miser, ex-Mist Officer of Varia. Arcobaleno and assassin. Thirteen years old sweetheart.

They let her get as far as two streets over before they cut her off. Mayumi, absent of the smile from earlier, tensed and narrowed her eyes at them.

... A bunch of grown men cornering a girl like her.

Anyone would think odd things about this.

Before anyone else could speak, Mayumi opened her mouth, sounding like she was reciting a script, "I've already called my brothers and if I'm delayed even a split second they'll call the police. Now leave me alone."

No one moved,.

"We have a job offer." Squalo began calmly.

"Yeah, that's what they say. I don't believe you but for the sake of it, I'll tell you to contact my guardian. Now fuck off."

Where was the sweet girl from earlier?!

"Also, why would anyone work for someone who, not just a few hours ago, caused a public scene in a respectable establishment? You even hurt my boss, you know. Also you," she brazenly pointed at Tsuna, "committed eat and run. Rich guy my ass. If I work for you, you'll probably rip me off. I'm not interested in guys like that."

There was double entendre on that last comment. She was a highschooler!

This was just _wrong!_

"Or maybe Tsuna-kun is just dirty minded~"

Did Byakuran read his mind?!

"Scram."

She made to walk around them. Xanxus shot out his hands.

Tsuna watched in despairing, exasperated, horror.

At least take into account her side of things?! Just this one time, show some kind of restraint!

He was either going to make her scared or mad. Or both.

This wasn't something he could just bash through with sheer force. Not this time.

Squalo made an aborted motion.

"Xanxus." Tsuna rebuked.

A second too late.

A messenger bag went flying past Tsuna's cheek and hit Xanxus a second after he pulled Mammon behind him.


	18. Chapter 18

I yawn, still half asleep as I stumble after my mother, legs much shorter and clumsier than her own.

It's a new moon so it's even darker than any other night and the number of times I've tripped on a root has already reached uncountable. Granted, I'm not counting in the first place, so..

Albeit snow continues to fall and the trees are weighed down by the clustered mounds, and that I'm still wearing my sleepwear beneath my cloak, there isn't even a hint of coolness. To the point that I'm pretty sure my mother has actually managed to overdose me with the warming potion.

I let loose another jaw breaking yawn.

"Mother, where are we going?" I whine, "I'm tired."

But you probably know that, don't you?

I try to crane back my neck to gauge her expression but except for the almost luminescent paleness contrasting the vivid red hair trailing behind her like a banner, the Duchess of Cornwall reveals nothing.

My lids gets heavier as time passes by.

At least an hour has already passed since we left into the cover of the eve, and combined with the pressure in the air there's absolutely no possible way I should've stayed in my groggy state this long.

There must've been more to the warming potions than she let on.

It is only when we emerge from the treelines, miles and miles from the castle where Elaine and Morgaine are likely safe and warm in their beds -and even more further away from the decades long war the King of Camelot has waged against us- that she stops by a lakeshore.

There, a lonely boat stays afloat on the edge, nothing to anchor it to its place but magic.

I blink lethargically, habitually popping a thumb in my mouth.

Igraine turns to me and identical blue eyes clashes with mine. She crouches to my level, dress already torn and weathered dipping into the mud. Her hands comes up to my shoulders, gently squeezing them and I discover her heat to be something I will miss. Her eyes traces my face, as if to keep it in her heart forever.

Then finally, she releases a ragged breath.

I blink.

"...Are you going to send me away?" I mumble, finding that I don't feel either way about the matter (maybe just that tiny bit hurt and dissatisfied).

I understand.

A lot more than she's probably expecting me to.

She smiles at me and it's nothing like her usual ones. It's stiff, false, and forced, "...Oh, sweetheart, why are you still awake?"

...well, I suppose there's no purpose to ask questions I already know the answers to.

I stare at her.

Say whatever you will about Igraine of Cornwall -even I don't yet know the truth about the true state of her relationship with Gorlois and Uther (And say what you will about me but refraining from Legilimency is the minimal amount of respect I owe this woman who'd raised me).

But as a mother, she's a pretty good one.

Or maybe that's just me. It's not like I ever had anyone to compare her with.

Perhaps, something like 'I love you' is more appropriate for the moment. But love has always been a... foreign element for me.

Trust is the highest form of affection I can give with full awareness of everything it might pertain.

"I had a dream..."

I have a feeling, that we won't be seeing each other for a long time. If ever again.

So I'd like to let her know. Just once.

It's getting harder to keep my eyes open, much less move my mouth.

Her smile softens. She always likes hearing about our dreams.

"...in my dream... my name's Tom Riddle... and he's..." I peer at her, "... he's always alone... and always lonely..."

The sight of her trembling lips and the wet sheen over her eyes are the last thing I will see of her in years.

"But then I woke up... and you're there..."  
_

When I wake up, I'm in the middle of nowhere, boat swaying side to side, and there's a sealed envelope in my hand. It's freezing cold.

I look out at the never ending darkness and feel the chill settle in my soul. Whatever else may be out there with me are concealed behind the thick cover of mist.

The parchment is magically sealed, specifically keyed to a specific person. I don't read it.

I lay back down, curling by the sack of which I presume are filled with food and supplies. I don't have any appetite.

The cloak in my tight grip shifts into something bulkier, thicker, furrier, and an interior heating charm is applied as I pull in my toes inside my makeshift burrito.  
_

The third time I wake up in a single night, I suck in a frigid inhale as I am blown away by the absolutely stunning sunrise. Imagine the sky painted in colours of the rainbow, the deceptively calm sea its mirror image and a peaceful stillness stretching as far as the eye can see. A seagull caws high above. I can feel the cold wind nipping at my cheeks and the sea breeze running through my hair.

I dig into the sack and find hard bread, cheese, and bottles of warming potions.

...Oh, well, that makes sense.

I down half of a bottle. I'm six and can't be too careful when it comes to personal health.

I fill myself with some food, carefully peering over the side of the boat. There are ripples as the thing steadfastly cuts through the surface towards an unknown destination.

It fades into the far distance.  
_

_"Mistake? Trust me, there was not a single mistake in your life."_

_"Not you, not Lord Voldemort. It was inevitable. A simple case of cause and effect."_

_"Think about it. Born from a twisted love, into a twisted world, raised in a twisted society, was it such a surprise that you became twisted yourself?"_

_"You were too smart, too brilliant, too powerful, too beautiful, too ambitious. By all rights, you should've flourished into a legend to pass through the centuries, not just a footnote to the accolades of Harry Potter. But you were too much. And that was your tragedy."_

_"So no, there was no mistake. You were doomed from the very beginning."_  
_

The fourth, the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh time fortunately goes pretty much the same with only the change of which heavenly body is on shift at the moment being the only telltale of the amount of time that passes by. Nothing amiss occurs.

Two days and three nights pass.

On the eight time I'm pulled from a nap, there are voices whispering to each other and it's dawn.

I stir.

"-waking up."

"Go get her out of there, the poor dear. Let me check her."

The boat bobs as someone boards it and a pair of hands scoop me up. My eyes flutter open. I stiffen.

I can feel the leather of the strap over his chest and my feet graze the cool metal of the handle of a sword.

The dark skinned man looking down at me grins softly, "Do not be scared. We are here to help you."

"Godric, give her to Helga. It's natural she will be scared if she wakes up to an unknown man."

I stare wide eyed as I'm gently set on the ground. I flinch when a blonde haired woman crouched next to me and she coos reassuringly, "Are you cold?"

Her voice is soft and lilting, most likely purposefully so to relax me. I shake my head.

Her eyes narrows at my face, on my lips. A gust of warm wind rakes the leftover salt from my hair and my dress coughs out the mud and dirt that it has collected.

"There's a letter here."

My head turns towards where the voice called from and I can bet that my eyes are as wide as saucers by now.

The red haired man that has the sword is crouching a distance away and only the blonde woman is close enough to be within arms reach. Another man in aristocrat robes has just alighted from my boat, showing the envelope to another woman with sharp blue eyes.

A touch on my shoulder steals my attention back to the blonde. She smiles, bright and nothing like my mother's.

"Hello, my name is Helga. That knight there is Godric. That's Salazar, and that one's Rowena. What's yours?"

A beat goes by silently.

Godric and Helga are all encouraging smiles, Rowena reads the letter stone faced with Salazar peering over her shoulder and occasionally shooting me concerned glances

"...Morrigan."

And perhaps it's the accent and the quiet way I mumble it, but then Godric beams.

"Morgan, then? Nice to meet you."


	19. Chapter 19

To know someone, it's always best to start from the very beginning.  
_

It was a very romantic story. A peasant man, one who grew in the slums, fell in love with a noble woman. They didn't live in the same world. One of eternal galas and glittering silver and gold, and one of rotting wood, empty pockets, and emptier stomachs.

Oh, but it was a very romantic story, so of course the noble woman fell in love too.

They both knew that life will be hard, and that, really, the man will never be able to provide even a drop of the extravagance she grew up in.

But they were in love.

And they were in love.

So the woman left with him in the wake of the night.

In stories, that would've been the end.

Three years later, worn and miserable, the woman returned to her home and begged her parents to take her back. Easily, they welcomed her with open arms and the woman unrepentantly threw herself to them.

Viper was the unsaid part. The daughter of a noble and a peasant.

She watched the joyful reunion between family from her place half concealed behind a wall and it never even occured to her that she belonged with them.

Viper's first blood was that of her own mother's.

(She always thought there was something very romantic with tragedies, moments that only lasted a second before the sweet words and soft sighs were dashed away.)  
_

It was the usual ruckus of a market place on a market day. Vendors would scream their products and wares, making it a contest between each other on who's voice would stand out more and rally the prospective buyers. Murmurs buzzed about as the people walked around, considering and contemplating of what to spend their money on.

Compared to the voices that plagued her though, it was mere white noise. It had always been clearer than anything else reality could present to her. And the colours of the world paled in comparison to what her eyes could see. A perpetual state of doubting which was real, always just at edge and at the risk of falling and falling and falling as the line blurs. A careful balance between two worlds.

That was what being an Esper meant.

Viper heard his voice before he even made up his mind to call out to her. She stopped and abruptly turned, taking enjoyment at the startled squawk that cut through the crowd between them. She waited for him to reach her because she was nice that way and she was in a good mood.

"I hate it when you do that." He grumbled, giving her the stink eye.

Viper shrugged, "Your fault for reacting like that every time. I would've thought you'd gotten used to it by now."

He huffed.

Her lips quirked, "So, was there something you wanted?"

"Don't you know already? Didn't you already read my mind or something?" he said moodily.

Viper rolled her eyes beneath her cowl.

"I _don't_ read minds."

She _could, _but that's just rude. There were _lines._

Perking up at that, because he always liked knowing something she didn't and that happened very rarely, he bounced in his place, acting more like the stereotypical teenaged girl with the latest hottest gossip than Viper ever had.

And she was literally a fifteen year old girl who _always _had the latest hottest gossip. People _paid _her _millions_ for those little bits of information. That was her shtick.

"Someone's searching for you."

"...And how is that any special?"

They moved out of the hustle and bustle of the crowd. They walked until the traffic thinned remarkably and took an outdoor table of a cafe. They ordered and dismissed the waiter. He was practically bursting in the seams the whole time.

"It's the yakuza!" He blurted out.

Viper's known haunts were a bit more to the west, "A bit far, yes, but that doesn't warrant that much excitement. I do sometimes take jobs there."

"Yeah, but it's not always that they're searching for you with a sky in tow."

...indeed. Not always. Not anymore.

The waiter set their drinks on the table between them. Viper determined that her iced lemonade (and her companion's drink too) was clear of anything lethal and sighed at the coolness that slid down her throat. She liked Australia. She really did.

But some days, it was just_ hot__._

In her much earlier days in the Mafia, when she was shooting up through ranks, too green to know better and too good in her job for her to notice that she was _good, _Skies had flocked to her in an attempt to tie her down to their respective groups while she's still fresh and easy to cultivate loyalty in and she'd blasted through them. She recalled revelling in the knowledge that no one was strong enough to bond with her and take her freedom from her.

And then when they realized the same, they began sending droves of assassins and hitmans her way. The typical, _If I can't have you then no one else should, _kind of mentality. She'd either send them back in pieces or just slip through their fingers.

It had been the climax of her childhood. One giant game of It. When everyone finally got the hint, they began leaving her alone, Skies steering clear from her because she killed anyone who even had the _audacity _to try.

Now in her teens, it had been years since the last attempt. They had guts at least.

She hummed, watching cars drive by, "Is that so."

His shoulder slumped and he scowled at her, "Seriously? That's all you're going to say? I've been looking forward to telling you this for _weeks _and that's all I get? I expected something more."

Exactly why she was keeping any reaction she might have under wraps. Because Viper liked ruining people's satisfactions.

He guzzled down his coca cola.

"What about you? Anything new?" because the older boy was her only friend and quite possibly her 'best friend' too and she did like listening to him yak on about his days no matter how long-winded they could be sometimes.

(It kept her grounded, these pieces of interaction that pulled her to the _now _and _here, right here, right here, here, here, and the voices are pushed back and she has the certainty even for just a moment that yes this was reality, your world, not the abyss of voices and intangible eyes that watched everything- you're your own person not jus a part of the river-)_

He shrugged, leaning back in his seat to people watch with her, "Fine. There's still few weeks before I go on the next world tour. The usual rush to get everything done and my guys are panicking as always as if _they're _the ones who'd have to fly through a flaming hoop or something."

"Anyone bothering you?"

The waiter served them their meals.

"Nope. S'pretty quiet these days."

Viper smirked, "They _would _be after what you did."

He groaned, face reddening, "How did you even know about that? I've been trying to forget that. It was so embarrassing."

She raised an eyebrow, "How is going berserk, pulling an electric pole from the ground, and swinging it around like a deranged monkey embarrassing?"

He gave her the look she deserved for that. He opened his mouth, to snark something most likely, but he was cut off by the ringing in his pocket. It was an alarm.

His face went 'oh!' and he jumped from his seat, pushing his chair back and almost tripping on his own feet.

"Shit! I almost forgot! I have to go now Vipes, my guys and I are getting on a ship for Indonesia, take care!"

"See you later Skull." She called out after him.

Skull was almost out to the streets when the waiter that had served them jerked him back by his collar.

"Wha-?!"

"Sir, you forgot to pay your bill!"

The tightness around his eyes clearly said that he didn't believe that Skull simply 'forgot'. Skull blinked.

"What? But my friend-"

There was no one in the table. Nothing to suggest that Viper had ever been present.

Skull couldn't even bring himself to be surprised. He just sighed and rummaged around his pockets for some change.


	20. Chapter 20

**I'm in a phase.**

* * *

Lord Voldemort- Tom, examined his hands with wonder. No, not his hands. They couldn't be.

Softer than he could ever remember them to be, and plump with obvious youth. Unblemished and pale -less of the papery veneer of his Dark Lord persona and more like the vibrancy of Tom Riddle, the flush and warmth of the blood beneath.

He pawed at his face and brought a lock of blueish purple hair in front of him. He was dressed in a heavy red robe which made him cringe just imagining how it clashed with his hair.

He regarded his surroundings. He was in a clearing enclosed by trees. Muggle trees, as he'd dealt with enough magical plants to be able to determine the amount of magic a plant would produce if it had been grown on magical property.

So he would have to assume that he was somewhere in the muggle world.

He furrowed his brows. But how?

The last thing he could recall before regaining consciousness in this body in this place was...

...oh.

He winced.

Oh.

He died. He actually...lost.

To a boy that by all logic, _shouldn't_ have won.

Hadrian James Potter, was it? He'd seen young Draco's memory of him, which was actually a very informative source when it came to the Potter boy.

Only really remarkable in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Quidditch. A failure in potions (admittedly, it wasn't entirely his fault), average -at best- in both charms and transfiguration. Lazy too, if the fact that he chose to sign up for Divination, of all things, and _stay,_ was a testament to anything.

Not that Tom doubted the authenticity of Divination, far from it, it was just that... well, let's just say that Divination in his generation, hadn't been as much of a joke as it happened to be now.

The point was, Harry was not particularly outstanding in any way. (Except, you know, _somehow, _he managed to banish the greatest Dark Lord of all times as a two year old.)

Compared to Tom -brilliant, charming, powerful, headboy Tom who already had _vassals_ from ancient houses by fourth year-, what was he?

Tom's eyes widened.

The burning indignation was instantly doused by those words.

_What was he?_

A realization hit him like a bludger.

Rather than asking what _Harry_ was, he should be asking himself what _Lord Voldemort _was.

An insane mad man who'd long since fallen from grace.

He... He hadn't been conscious of it then. But now, suddenly stripped of it, he was distinctly aware of the absence of the haze that had clouded his mind.

When, though?

When did it happen? Why? How?-

The scene in the Forbidden Forest came back to him. The pain, when he'd directed the killing curse. The one that he'd, in hindsight, very foolishly dismissed.

The pain of the death of a horcrux.

... _Merlin's bloody underpants._

He ran through his memories of the last two decades with a fine toothed comb.

It makes _so much sense. _The last piece to the puzzle that had been staring at him while dancing the hula butt naked. Then another epiphany came to him and his groan echoed in the clearing.

Dumbledore that meddling old coot _knew._

_That's _why he'd let the Potter boy meet him in numerous occasions. Otherwise, no sane person -which Dumbledore was, despite all his quirks- would've let -would've_ lured, _because that was what he did- an eleven year old to run headfirst into a series of tests, ala Hercules. Because he'd been aware of the madness that was plaguing him and really, Tom Riddle was a lot less dangerous as a deranged happy-trigger madman than as the only person with the mental capabilities to beat Dumbledore in Wizard chess at the age of fifteen (after much preparation, but let's not get into that).

_After all, the prophecy had proven true so far and Harry was bound to meet him in battle eventually, and oh look, a series of quests that would just so happen to also help train him into someone who might just be able to hold himself against the hundreds of people who'd want to serve his head on a silver platter._

Tom could practically trace the late Headmaster's thought process then.

That cooky old guy, Tom grumbled to himself. He must be gloating in the afterlife.

Speaking of which, _he'd _died (and oooh boy did it grate at him), so where was he?

"...ness! Your highness! Please answer me, where are you? Your highness!"

He wasn't deluded enough to think he'd be in Heaven, Valhalla, or whatever you will, but Tom couldn't see any fiery, dark, eternity of pain and torture either. Limbo then?

It wasn't surprising that there was no sign to point to what his judgement was since those signs were really just preconceived ideas humans had of the afterlife.

For that matter though, what's with the body change.

He clearly wasn't going to get answers sitting here, so Tom pushed himself up (he was _short,_ like preteen short) and was already halfway through the clearing when the thicket behind him was torn apart and a wail startled him into shooting a wordless, wandless _diffindo_ to the ground.

He stiffened, thinking that he'd performed magic in front of a muggle (now he'll have to kill them and he just didn't have the time to waste) but then he saw her.

"What?!-" the woman, dressed in casual wizarding clothes aka medieval, coughed at the dust that had been disturbed. The ground was soft so there weren't any particularly hard debris that might've caused injuries. Though, she was dirty now.

"Your highness! What is the meaning of this?!"

Tom raised an eyebrow. Was she referring to him?

He stayed silent. She seemed to be eager to elaborate anyways, her face flushed with frustration.

"Do you know how worried we were?! Please, for the last time, stop doing this! You are a prime target that many would wish to get their hands on! If we lost you, where would we be?! Not only will you be gone but Your Majesty would also have our heads rolling! And just because you're... well, you! Doesn't mean you're invincible! You can get taken off guard or someone could sneak up on you-! A lot can happen, Princess! Please be more conscious of your safety!"

Tom felt his face cramp.

Prin...cess?

Did he happen to have possessed (though he didn't recall performing such magic it was what it was, the only explanation for the body switch) a princess? A... girl?

Tom didn't have anything against girls. Dear Bella wouldn't have risen through his ranks that fast if he did. His personal motto was that if you could do it, then do it. Regardless of gender or age.

Besides, that mentality was never really big in the wizarding world -more of a muggle thing.

But... well, forgive him for being a bit speechless. He wasn't _entirely_ imperturbable.

Anyways, there were much more significant things to do than deliberating on that. The woman was still raving, and she didn't seem like she was mistaking him for anyone else.

What to do next? Information gathering, yes, but most of the things she was spouting Tom didn't have any idea of.

So he was a... princess, and there was a Your Majesty involved with him- her- him, _him._

A parent maybe, but Tom couldn't really be sure. Titles and relations in monarchies could be quite the mess.

But there was no monarchy in the Magical World. Aristocracy maybe, but he hadn't heard of anyone referred to as 'Your Majesty'. Well, except him, which was more an honorary title in the East.

This woman seemed to be close to the princess if she was talking to 'her' like this and Tom wouldn't have any idea how the princess normally talked or acted. But he needed to do something or she might start suspecting.

...well, as the Victorian saying goes; when in doubt, swoon.


	21. Chapter 21

**I really like the idea of a Mary Riddle.**

**There's tons of fem!Harry out. What about Tom.**

* * *

Being a girl had its perks. Being a girl living in a dorm with other girls had even more perks. Being a girl in a dorm with other girls who're anticipated future socialites in a House famed for its ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness was a downright advantage.

Mary wasn't one for gossiping but she knew the hottest and most hush hush rumours.

The story about the Room of Requirements came as just a footnote but something that caught her attention.

"-says they did the deed."

"_No. Way! _I mean, that's just disgraceful!" Miller's red cheeks and sparkling eyes didn't give much credibility to her sneer.

"But _where? _Parkinson's a Ravenclaw and Abbott's a Slytherin. They didn't get caught, did they, so it mustn't be either common room. _Or _room."

"_Where, _isn't the point! They're still minors and Parkinson's_ three years younger than him!" _Crabbe practically shrieked.

"And isn't that _so _hot."

Corner tilted her head, humming, "It's practically a Hogwarts lore. People say there's a magical room on the seventh floor that appears with whatever you need if you walk in front of it three times."

She got the look that deserved. "Annie, honey, that's _so _specific of you. If you haven't noticed, we're in a magical school. What room isn't magical?"

"And that's a bit _too much. _Isn't it? Sounds too good to be true and all that."

"Sounds like from someone who was trying too hard. Let me guess, Nott told you that didn't he?"

"Ooooh! Are you going to do the deed with him too?"

"_What?! That's disgusting you guys!"_

"You're blushing!"

"I'm mortified!"

"And oooooh, looky here guys. Riddle's as red as a berry! Who would've thought it'd only take things like _that _for us to get you off your books."

Okay, so maybe her curiosity this time wasn't directed to something more 'Dark Lady'ish. But she was a teenaged girl, she was free to be curious about such things. She was a healthy twelve year old girl. A curious twelve year old girl. She's human too, certain flaws can be excused- no, she was not being defensive.

And she did get the Room of Requirements for it.

(Turns out, Nott had just really been trying to impress a girl with his 'knowledge' and never actually checked for it's validity. And no, Parkinson and Abbott never did any deed.)


	22. Chapter 22

Somewhere outside, unrest was brewing, the economy was fluctuating, and war was just on the horizon.

Wool's orphanage didn't have much -if any- benefactor as sponsors go. In one word, it was a miserable place.

But it was just starting, the downward spiral not yet complete and the adults still had the energy to attempt at optimism.

Stories were a way to liven the place.

Three years old Mary Riddle especially loved stories about her mother, Merope Gaunt. Every little piece was considered precious.

"She adored berries."

"Sometimes, she would sit by the windowsill, humming. I asked once and she said it was a story she was telling. I reckon it was for you."

"I remember she mentioned that Marvolo was her father's name."

"She was a lovely cook, oh yes."

"Not very pretty, not like ye, but a polite young lass."

Saying 'stories' was a bit of an exaggeration, but Mary fancied piecing together every tidbit of carelessly dropped trivia.

She imagined it like building blocks, gradually filling the outline of the mysterious woman who had loved her enough to die for her.


	23. Chapter 23

Mary had never been her name. It slipped past the matron's and the other adults' lips but it was not her name.

She never considered it so.

It was so... _mundane._

And she was anything _but _mundane.

She was brilliant, there was power in her dreams and desire, she was... great.

Well, not yet. She was still just an orphan among the many orphans of the world, abandoned, neglected, and meaningless in the end of the day. But she _will _be great.

If it was a drive or a prediction, she didn't know. Only that she had always acknowledged the inevitability of it _(in another world she would've been born a boy, Tom, and he would leave a scar in the history, remembered for his power and cruelty in the centuries that would follow._

_"...He Who Must Not Be Named did great things- terrible, yes, but great.")._  
_

She was four when she realised that she was different. And that being different wasn't something _nice. _Because people didn't understand her and people feared what they couldn't understand. And hated what they feared.

She could do things other couldn't. It was this separate sentience from her, humming and growing just beneath her skin. Making It do what she wanted wasn't so much as bending it to her will as convincing It to agree with her. No one else seemed to have It.

She never even considered denying It. Because as much as It wasn't her, It was still a part of her and young and precocious (still innocent, still pure), she couldn't find the sense in denying a part of you. It was literally like alienating your own hand.

It was also then that she realized that other people were _stupid. _And that unfortunately, 'other people' consisted of the rest of the world. She'd briefly contemplated making it her life's goal to grow up and become a hermit but that was quickly shot down because as much as people were stupid, they weren't entirely useless. They were funny in their inferiority at least, as they struggled and clawed for things that were clearly beyond their reach.

She was five and a half when she made her first friend. They met under the shade of the tree in a nearby park. With how barren and dry the ground was, she'd thought it miraculous that something like a tree was even able to grow.

Narin -she'd named him, because snakes never cared to name themselves- was an adder.

And it was from him that she learned of people like her. Capable of the same things she could do.

Well, except for talking to snakes. So it seemed even among her race (magicals, he firmly told her, because saying she was human was like saying that he was a mamba) she was still special.

(odd, different, special; it's really interchangeable)

Granted, being your typical adder, he was hardly invested in the Magical society's goings-on, and he saw their movements through different eyes, so she wisely accepted everything he said with a grain of salt.

Still, she was enamoured with the world he weaved with words, so different from the dreary and gray London she'd come to know. She spent the following years sneaking to the park every chance she got and listening to the stories of a snake.

Often, she would mimic some of the displays of magic her kin did that Narin would relay to her. And always, she would patiently wait for the time she would be welcomed to their -her- world.

And that time did come. In a rather... unconventional way.

She was seven when she was kidnapped.

'Stranger danger', was a phrase that had been pounded into every orphan's head -the resident heretic or not, Riddle had ears and the caregivers repeatedly warned the others enough times that even as removed as she was from the others, it had reached her.

He introduced himself as Haashin. His brown hair was combed to the side, his skin was tanned and rich, and he had a pair of keen hazel eyes.

If it was his real name, she wouldn't know. He walked up to her in one of her rendezvous with Narin -who'd immediately slithered away when they saw him-, introduced himself, and plucked her from the ground -all with a charming grin. She was so stunned her mind blanked.

Then, realizing that she was being kidnapped -in broad daylight in a public place- she began struggling; kicking, flailing her arms around, and even screaming.

"Oh, hush. No one's coming."

She was compelled to agree with him. No one had even glanced in their direction, undisturbed in their peaceful lives.

People couldn't be this stupid, could they? This was bordering the line of retarded, she thought incredulously.

(Or maybe people were just this cruel?)

"What...!"

"Oh, don't worry, they hadn't spontaneously gone deaf." She gave him the look that deserved, "It's just that as far as they're concerned, we don't even exist."

...What did that mean?

"Let me go."

He glanced down at her on his hip, an eyebrow raised. "More importantly, aren't you scared? You're a pretty little lady and I just kidnapped you. That deserves some kind of reaction right?"

"I do have a reaction! I'm angry! Now let! me! go!" She scratched at him and even tried to bite his arm. He pushed her head away.

Oh, she was terrified alright. She just tended to lash out when she was scared. It had always been like that, and it had never failed her before (darkened eyes of disdain burning the side of her head, someone pushing down her bowl, her dresses torn, her only doll eyeless and his stuffing gone, _she snapped_-).

Urgently, Riddle called on It. If no one was going to even try to save her then she'd just do it herself.

He clicked his tongue, halted in the middle of the street -the other people going around him like water around stone-, and looked down at her sternly.

"Dont even try that."

She jerked in alarm. Did he know?!

"Trust me little witch, you won't like what'll happen if you test me."

It simmered just at the edges of her reach. She let her hold of it go, heart pounding in her ears.

He smiled, "Good."

He did. He definitely knew.

Then that could only mean- "You're like me."

Of all the scenarios she'd thought up of when the time she'll finally get to meet another like her came, this -whatever this was anyways- didn't feature.

"I'm a boy and you're a girl, so no, I don't think so." He said humorously.

"Magic, I mean." When Narin -who'd hopefully stayed safe- told her of what they referred to It was, she'd thought it trite at first before deciding that it was probably the self-proclaimed human magicians who'd perverted the word into something ridiculous.

He hummed. It wasn't like she needed him to verbally agree anyways, there could only be one right answer.

She settled in his arms, watching their surroundings gradually change from familiar to foreign, the odd behaviour of those around them now understandable.

They stopped by a nondescript car and he secured her to the passenger's seat. He drove them outside of the city -she'd never been this far from the orphanage and it was both liberating and frightening. The ride was silent and lengthy, and before long, she'd succumbed to slumber.

* * *

There were trees everywhere she looked, so close together the leaves blotted out the light and giving the impression of independence from the rest of the world. There was a single overgrown road leading to a clearing deep in the forest where a lone cottage of wooden logs and brick red chimney stood.

"Why did you take me?"

Now that she'd calmed down from the initial excitement of finally, _finally, _having left that horrid place, there were certain things that were brought to her attention.

First of all was that there was no resemblance between them whatsoever that she was certain that he was no relative. Second, was that he may be a wizard, but he _was _still a stranger. She was almost embarrassed by the ease that he'd made her put her guard down.

Was she this desperate? she thought angrily to herself.

"I thought you might be useful. You're still young with an unstable core and yet the feats you're capable of are quite refined."

She nodded. That made sense.

As expected, even as little her education in magic was, she still surpassed the standard.

"Where are we?"

"... how to word it... Well, it's like we're in another world that's been linked to the main world."

"How was it made?" she asked in wonder.

He shrugged, "A combination of ancient runes and large scale magic. This belongs to my family."

"Ancient Runes? Large scale magic? What's that mean?"

She waited. And waited. And waited. He didn't answer.

He was ignoring her.

She had the inkling that he was only going to answer questions when he felt like it and she was never one to waste time on something she knew was futile anyways, so she turned her gaze towards the direction they were walking to. She squinted her eyes when movement caught her attention.

"What's that?"

No answer.

Standing by the door was a creature about her height. It was a bit gray, with big droopy ears that made her think of an elephant, a long pointed nose, and a pair of wide protruding eyes the size of tennis balls. It was dressed in rags that seemed to her like the very old remnants of a mouldy quilt.

* * *

**So FYI, all these Mary Riddle/Tom Riddle transmigration gender benders are actually all really old dribbles I'm only now finding. There's still a lot where they came from, so sorry if there are repeated phrases (as I've noticed).**

**Also, wow. I was obsessed with fem!Tom (and just Tom in general) alright.**


	24. Chapter 24

Viper paced through the halls.

The walls were closing in on them, they could feel Reborn's watchful eyes searing at their back 24/7, and the curse had rendered the majority of their power inaccessible.

It was driving them unquestionably insane.

They needed to leave.

Reborn was the most experienced of them, the alpha, if they were being honest, forged from blood and blades since his birth. But Viper was the Mist -_The _Mist. The most powerful Mist. Nothing short of a nuclear bombing would stop them from doing what they wanted -and even then.

Still, something was stopping them.

Viper convinced themselves it was the side-effect of the curse keeping them here.

"Vipes?"

"_What?"_

They stared at Skull and the Cloud hunched in on himself. Viper sighed.

"Sorry Skull, what is it?"

If Viper was being honest, they had always liked the stuntman the best. He was older than them by a few years and liked to coax them in calling him big brother. He also shined the brightest of them, the only one of their group you could trust without fear of being backstabbed because you knew despite the certain annoying habits of his, he was the nicest of everyone. Even more than Luce who, despite the kindness, was still a Mafia Boss and wasn't always sincere.

He seemed so dim now.

Tired.

This confinement was taking a toll on the both them.

"Ah... Lal brought back strawberries we can use to dip in chocolate. I made some if you want."

Viper could feel all the frustrations deflate from them. They knew it wasn't going to last, that it was all going to come back with a vengeance, but for now...

"Yeah, sure I could use some."

They made camp in a corner of the kitchen, with a bowl of strawberries and a bowl of chocolate syrup between them, because the chairs were too tall and they still hadn't gotten used to their bodies yet to bother with them right now.

"...Thanks." Viper mumbled out.

Skull smiled, "Same."

That made them pause. That's right, Skull was basically still a civilian.

But now he'd be forced to abandoning that life to make a living as an Arcobaleno. In the Underworld.

The pair were quiet for the rest of the day, busying themselves with stuffing their cheeks with the fruit and drowning their sorrows with chocolate.

Misery did love company, but in the silence of their mind, Viper admitted that maybe they would've preferred if Skull at least had been spared from this fate.


	25. Chapter 25

**whop. Another one that popped up. One of the earliest i think.**

* * *

There he was.

He _knew _he was dying.

Could feel it as his soul finally let go of what little was left of its hold in the mortal plane.

There was the glimpse of a pair of green eyes -a green he'd gotten accustomed to associate with the boy prophesied to deliver the last blow on Lord Voldemort.

Curiously enough, he couldn't quite bring himself to focus on him, to curse him in his last moments. Or even to rack his brain for some kind of way to twist the situation to his advantage, or at least so that he could slip away, somehow, to bide his time somewhere until he got his chance.

Instead, he found himself more preoccupied with the memories rushing to the forefront of his thoughts.

Huh. Would you look at that?

He was honest to Salazar watching his life flash before his eyes.

Somehow, in that moment that stretched into seeming eternity, that was what stunned him the most.

There, staring back into the Potter boy's eyes, he watched everything that had made Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Everything that had made Lord Voldemort.

And then...

There was the familiar feel of the sheets of his bed in the Slytherin Dorms, shifting like warm water beneath his skin as his body jumped into action and he twisted, curling into himself, chest heaving, lungs too empty, mouth gaping, sight filled with emerald green with the wreckage of Hogwarts only present in the back of his lids, and his ears drowning in the rapid beat of his pulse.

Too... Too hot.

He'd died once, but that wasn't true death, not really (as it was no true _living_ either, admittedly), but even as it was, since the whole near death experience i.e 'biography movie clips' checked out, he'd almost expected death to also be similar in those lines people spout.

_Eternal blackness to the point of madness maybe._

He carefully lowered himself lest his arms gave out on their own, his every nerve aching. The way the bed melted to his form was heaven in hell.

_Anything but this._

Hazy blue eyes swiveled around, keenly tracing the artfully uneven surface of the stone ceiling, the dark wood of the poster bed, and the lamp hanging from a chain.

All too familiar.

Almost home.

_Maybe that was it. His eternal torture would be played out here, until any idea of safety was superimposed with pain and- and... and regret?_

...Something was wrong. Not just the place. Something was different.

He tried to strain his mind against the heavy haze of exhaustion.

In the end, his eyes rolled back in their sockets and he was dead to the world.

Just... not as literally as he might've expected.  
_

_He could feel the probing eyes on him, as absent of its twinkle as it had always been when it was him they landed on._

_"Tell me, Tom. What do you think is death?"_

_His own though, he kept glued to the phoenix carefully unearthing themselves from the ashes of their previous life._

_Maybe it was that Dumbledore had always been able to see through him anyways, so for the first time in a very long time, he was honest in his ignorance._

_"...I don't know, sir."_

_He really didn't._

_And that was the point, wasn't it?_

_Rare as they had become, in moments of honesty and deep contemplation, he knew that was the root of it._

_The adults and other children from the orphanage feared him, because they didn't know. As his fellow Slytherins were enraptured with him, because- because they didn't know, couldn't know his limits, or the thoughts running in his mind._

_He wondered, if he could know, would he stop fearing it?_

_No._

_If the muggles knew, they wouldn't stop fearing him. Maybe the fascination would be gone, but then only the fear would be left._

_So no, he really, really didn't want to know._

_He turned to look at the man across him, smiling softly, gently, knowingly back at him._

_"There is nothing to fear, in the face of just yet another great adventure."_  
___

Great adventure indeed.

Glaring into his own reflection, he grimaced.

Or rather, _she _did.

Now, Tom-Voldemort (_who _was _he?)_ wasn't vain, in contrast to what some might've assumed. If he was, he wouldn't have lived through his resurrection.

The last face Lord Voldemort wore had been hardly attractive, in any sense of the word.

So while a bit different, he could, easily enough, adapt to this new body. As long as he still had his magic, what care did he have for the superficial stuff?

What was posing a... not a problem, but more along the lines of curiosity, was that _she _looked exactly like a feminine, more beautiful version of eleven year old _him _-Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The shadow of a familiar shade behind a stranger's face.

And he'd also found himself in his Hogwarts room rather than in some place, dead. As by all rights he should be.

He brought up a hand to his face.

Well, certainly, he felt the whole 'weightless, airy' kind of feeling that was so commonly described the sensation of being dead was supposed to be. But he suspected that was more out of having his soul mended after such a long time of it being... not.

This body fit him like a glove, better than even the poor excuse of a man that Lord Voldemort had been. He didn't realize how ill fitting it had been until now. Never quite noticed the staggering way his magic had flowed in it, as opposed to now.

Tracing a non existent shape in the air, he watched black hair fold itself into a loose braid over her shoulder.

The sweater and skirt beneath her Hogwarts robes fixed itself to mimicking a brand new set, whatever loose thread there had been was repaired and the spots where the dye was faded disappeared. The hem of the robes were lengthened appropriately and darkened in colour, any fault in her stockings was restored, and her Mary Janes had a present gleam to it.

A shaky breath.

Then again. And again. And again. Until he'd finally dislodged the lump in his-her throat when looking at the green, silver, and brown theme of the bathroom.

Slipping out back into his room, he slung his book bag and pocketed his wand -warm in his hands, as eager for action as ever.

Out the door and into the first years dorm hall, he resisted to tip toe his way into the Common Room as he was tempted to.

With only a moment's pause, he entered the circle of familiar faces as they waited for a prefect to show them the way to their classes, glancing around and begrudgingly acknowledging the threat of falling into nostalgia looming over him.

"Hello. Riddle, right?"

He smiled, finding her facial muscles almost too easy to control.

"Yes. Greengrass, isn't it?"

The 'how' was a blank blot and something he doubted he'd get an answer to without at least scouring the library. Meanwhile, he'll work on the 'what'.

For all intents and purposes, he was reliving the first day of his first year, albeit in a female body.

Harold Greengrass sidled up to his side, effortlessly including him into the already on going conversation he was leading. The ones who weren't already orbiting around him, were doing so with Abraxas, the pair of them already obviously their year's leaders.

Greengrass was a poster boy for extroverts, hailing from a 'gray' family.

They had taken a stubbornly neutral stance in the 'Blood Wars' he'd created. But if he recalled correctly, they were a staunch supporter of Grindelwald.

...oh. Right.

Grindelwald. Hitler.

And that meddling old coot.

"-Mother told me about Professor Slughorn and the Slug Club." Parkinson huffed, puffing her chest a bit. "My brothers already have their places in it and I can't see any reason why I won't."

They must still be on the speech Professor Slughorn had made last night. Tom couldn't quite remember the exact contents after all these years but he knew it had made an impact on the younger him and his yearmates at the time.

"I've already practiced potions with a tutor Dad hired. I'm really glad that Auntie insisted, now that I'm a Slytherin. I mean, I'm not _great _but it would've simply been a shame if I was _bad _at his subject, being our Head of House. Whatchu think, Riddle?"

He smiled sheepishly, shaking his head, "Well, I really wouldn't know."

There, that could be construed in numerous ways.

Greengrass blinked, "Oh."

"That's right!" Brown leaned forward curiously, "You grew up in the muggle world. Are you a muggleborn?"

He really didn't know. But by the state of his things and the familiar pyjamas he'd peeled off earlier with the tiny 'Wool's Orphanage' print on it, he'd hazard that, for the most part, his background was still the same.

Gripping his bag to his chest and willing himself to flush, he made use of his femininity and people's natural inclination to sympathise more with a girl, "I don't... I live in an orphanage, so I don't really-"

Nott nudged Brown a bit and the girl backed away, "S-sorry, that was nosy of me-"

"What's it like? Living with muggles?" Greengrass had put on a picture of polite interest but he was eleven and didn't yet have the ability to hide his true intent from Tom.

He was testing him.

Tom was almost tempted to roll his eyes. _Him, _this boy just in his double digits testing _him, _Lord Voldemort, the man who'd conquered magical Europe.

Then again, eleven was much better than two.

He didn't need to fake the grimace.

"... Not all muggles are- I mean, not _everyone's _bad, but-"

Harold nodded, as if he expected nothing else.

For his part, he had to keep himself from giving the boy a flat look. Or cursing him at his insolence.

A clap startled everyone out of their respective topics -which were for the most part just a lot of bragging- and gathered everyone's attention towards the older blonde girl, the prefect badge proudly pinned on the front of her robes.

"Alright babies, listen up. Compared to the rest of the castle the dungeons are actually straightforward. Which isn't saying much, being a literal underground labyrinth-" he tuned out, putting up a facade of obedience while he retreated into his mind.

There was the warmth of the other tiny bodies pressed around him, but he couldn't make any judgement on that, considering that he had been incapable of feeling much of anything since he'd lost his original body. He could think of about a hundred ways to fool every single one of his senses just from the top of his head

It _felt _real, but he wasn't- couldn't be so easily convinced to believe that this was actually...

Real.

Another chance.

How. Why.

A redo.

_Him. _Of all people.

"Alright! Let's get going!"


	26. Chapter 26

I'll help you."

_The voice comes from the seat across her and she stiffen because they are quiet, so, so quiet she__ can't_ feel them. A part of her immediately assumes an illusion. Luce looks up and almost has a heart attack.

"...Excuse me?"

The man is familiar in a distantly vivid way. It is not the first time she sees him, and she takes a moment to confirm that his edges aren't blurred and his flesh is solid -to assure herself this is reality and not within her dreams. Or as much as she can without touching him.

She knows this man's heart as much as she knows his cruelty, his sadism.

"Help. I'll help you. You'll need it, I want it, it's a win-win."

She smiles faintly, professional as she is when within the council room, not bothering to look perturbed by the abrupt and seemingly senseless offer.

"And you are?"

He briefly tilts his fedora to her, "Renato. You must've heard of me," he grins, something sly and teasing in it, "or perhaps seen me around."

Luce doesn't understand the pointed look- no, that's not entirely true. A big block of missing _something _is keeping her from jumping to conclusions because, just, _how?_

"I'm sorry but _what _do you want?" She asks, politely curious, "I have nothing I require assistance with right now."

He blinks, pauses, and then frowns to himself, "No? Am I too early?"

Luce tilts her head to the side, considering the man across her. Despite herself, she can barely keep herself from going breathless.

This man is _hers_.

Her ally, her friend, her family, even if it's yet in the distant future.

Her mind flit to the others, scattered across the globe, oblivious of their fates- of her.

_God, she adores them._

She can easily see herself growing to love them. She fights to keep herself from revealing anything in her expression.

"...well, suppose early is better than late... though..."

Renato looks up, onyx eyes boring into her.

"It's a nice day, isn't it? Don't you just feel the urge to set up a picnic with family under the rainbow?" he leans back, pulling up a leg over the other, "Or you know, it's also the perfect day for time travel."

Her thoughts screech to a halt. A woman walks by them to a table by the window, heels clicking against the smooth tiles of the hotel lobby. A child giggles in her drink, spilling orange liquid as his father chides him gently. The waitress sets a meal of roasted pork and mashed potato by a business man on the next table over and he absently thanks her over a newspaper.

...well.

She can't quite help herself. Evidently, he knows her, and she knows him and she can't think of a reason to pretend otherwise.

She heaves a sigh, deflating in her seat, "Oh, Renato, the things you get yourself into."

He snorts, a gleam sparking in his gaze as he looks at her and there's that at least. If he hasn't forgiven her for the betrayal that is yet to be, at the very least his fondness for her far outweighs any anger.

She can, cautiously, hope that he's not made all the effort to twist space and time just to kill her in a pre-emptive measure.

"Hardly. Couldn't have done this without Verde's penchant to _misplacing_ volatile and _definitely not _experimental knick knacks."  
_

"Why not just wait for Checkerface's summon?"

"Because then it'll be a job. The relationship will be greatly professional and distant. We need trust beyond just the one assignment, we can't afford otherwise."

"..who dies first?"

"Died." He corrects her because that's his past and if he has anything to say about it -which he does- then it'll be no one's future. "Skull."


	27. Chapter 27

**Hmm.**

**Guys. Hi. **

**Hmmmm.**

**... I'm thinking of ideas, of Arcobaleno, with Luce, and Vongola first generation, and I like it... It has Daemon and Viper as like main characters and half-siblings.**

**I don't knowknow if I can commit though. Since I also have that idea, of Luce and Reborn setting of on a quest to collect the others in accordance to the visions Luce saw (no timetraveler Reborn like last chapter though, or anything). So I'm hesitating posting first chapter here or separating it.**

**Hmm. I'll just see how I feel like it. Cause I really want it (both) to be long.**

* * *

It definitely began as a life and death encounter, with each sides determined and assured that the they would be able to end the others.

All eight of them, in a free for all.

That was how the Ultimo Arcobaleno first came together.

Their names had been different then.

Giglio Nero was the famiglia chosen to host the meeting due to its acclaimed neutral stance -someone had first suggested the Cervello but everyone knew that they were too entrenched in the mafia to truly be as unbiased as they once were. It was a gathering of the big shots and Luce, the only daughter of the Boss, was loaned as the mediator.

Qin Bang had Fon as a guard while Lal had infiltrated Vongola, deep enough that she was brought by the Boss as a personal assistant. Colonnello was waiting outside to lead the troops to storm the place with Lal's signal.

Verde was sitting amongst the bosses, not exactly mafia but definitely an independent power on his own. He had built his empire with his gizmos -both weapons and for conveniences' sake-, though he didn't seem to care for that as long as he had the money and resources to research and invent. There was no one better than him in that.

Reborn was a hotel staff gunning for the Vongola head -and maybe one or two others because they absolutely did not lack prices with their faces stuck on it and he was expecting a big haul.

Viper was, not unexpectedly, playing multiple sides. They had been the one to give the Intel to the Sovereignty and assisted Lal in her operation while tipping the Cavallone about the hitman lying in wait and throwing a bone to the Tomaso and Qing Bang about Lal's identity, and they weren't even there in person, witnessing everything by a puppet ghost.

And Skull... had rented the room directly below them two floors down -since they had reserved three entire floors just in case- and was patiently waiting for his buddy to come back with dinner, none the wiser of the upcoming disaster.

(One could say he had the worst luck that week. And the subsequent centuries that would follow.)  
_

In the end, they ruined the whole neighbourhood, had a pile of innocent bodies as collateral, and realized that they might've met the immovable object to their unstoppable forces.

Viper retreated first, burning everyone's figures in their mind and regretting that moment they slipped and accidentally revealed their presence when a Storm fist almost punched through their visage and they instinctively reacted.

Skull gaped in horror at the aftermath, wielding a broken post in one hand when he had defended himself from a kick by a surprised Lal. He quickly fled not long after.

Fon was the one to -grudgingly- stand down next. His client had already evacuated the place and it was going against his assignment to be away from them longer than necessary when the threats were already sufficiently distracted.

Verde trailed behind him, utilizing his Flames to keep Reborn's bullet from penetrating him and leaving his automaton slash assistant to stall the hitman, leaving him the focus of Lal's attacks while Colonnello gave chase to Luce, the other soldiers having already died at that point or splitting to follow the others famiglia.

Everything had happened too fast and not, but a caution against each other had been deeply planted and an interest grew.

No one forgot the thrill of their respective encounters, at least.  
_

The first time they, as a group, officially met, was by a mysterious invitation that gathered them for an assignment.

There were only seven this time.

By that point, Viper, Fon, and Skull were already familiar with each other, with Reborn being acquainted with them individually, while Lal and Luce could be counted as friends.

(Either because one party expressly searched for the other or they just had a tendency to keep an especially close eye on each other. As the saying went, 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer and potential threats even closer'.)

It was, surprisingly, not as terse as one might've expected from gathering the seven most high-profile, lethal, and paranoid people -some possessing only one or two of those attributes while others being all three.  
_

The mission only lasted a month or so.

But then there was another invitation, as vague as the last one and while they had previously accepted due to the curiosity for the co-workers listed, this time...

Reborn decided that there was nothing to truly be against with. He got to cement his ties with _The_ informant, a mafia heiress to one of the most renowned Famiglia, a well connected assassin of the East, _The _weapons dealer, a soldier with great influence in the legal side of matters which he was completely removed from, and he supposed saying he knew Skull the Immortal could pick him up girls whenever he was too lazy to exert too much effort. And also they were the only people he'd met till now that _truly _posed a threat to him and he should get to know some soft spots, just in case.

Viper never denied anything as long as it pertained to money and didn't pose a threat they couldn't eventually escape from (which meant absolutely nothing since they could leisurely stroll in and out of Vindicare on the regular). The highest bid was always first priority and their unknown client was generous.

Luce had been plagued with weird daydreams in the last weeks and she had thought it would be nice to vent stress with people she was already familiar with while at the same time adding to the prestige of her Famiglia.

Fon had nothing against spending time with strong people to either exchange cultures or blows. Either way was win win for him.

Verde regarded the group an efficient, if sometimes rowdy, bunch that had intriguing skills and abilities and developed techniques (Viper and Reborn's esper powers specifically, as such people with enough psychic powers to actually_ do _something with it _and _not yet be under the control of an organization numbered only a dozen or so) that he had no qualms studying at all.

Lal found the mission brought her in the same side as the others, albeit temporarily, and made use of that to somehow exploit the mission demands to get them to help her apprehend particularly problematic individuals -she especially found Viper's tracking ability very convenient.

Colonnello, after a slip by Lal and recalling that skirmish, though not invited stubbornly tagged along, unable to rest knowing that she could possibly be so outnumbered by such dangerous individuals.

Only Skull found it easy to admit that he thought them fun and nice to be around.

This time around, a base had been provided for them to use.  
_

Then the next offers, this time just a duo, and this time a trio, a quartet, a trio again, a duo.

Then the next job, then the next commission, and then the next, and the next, and the next.

The still unknown client, in the end, handed out a grand total of fifty quests.

Ultimately, they never refused a single one.

Not the fifty first either.

Even as they, for the third time, came again as a group and Luce, carrying the growing baby in her stomach, looked pale and made a few paltry attempts to try and convince them to _go back down this mountain _without providing them one single solid reason to their collective bafflement.

As was the usual now, Colonnello was Lal's plus one again and Skull and he ribbed at Reborn while Lal, Verde, and Luce discussed something -most likely the approaching birth of her child- with the two trying to calm her down from what they assumed was anxiety in virtue of hormonal imbalance, and Viper and Fon harmoniously walked side by side.  
_

Verde had briefly stopped thinking that day, falling into shock.

Skull fell unnaturally quiet, and simply walked away without a single word.

Fon and Viper descended that mountain together in silence and separated halfway just as silently.

Colonnello raged.

Lal stared at her hands listlessly.

Luce shivered under Reborn's accusing glare and the weight of the guilt.


	28. Chapter 28

**So, another Reborn time travels drabble I unearthed. Not edited or revised as usual so please bear the cringey parts.**

* * *

Reborn dies.

It isn't an exaggeration to say that at least a few dozen people regularly fantasize about this very moment. Neither would it be, to say that most likely not a single one had imagined that he would go out in his sleep.

He certainly didn't.

Now Reborn dies quietly, silently, in his sleep, poison in his very Flames, cursing the white haired bastard in the afterlife.

-"You are evil." Skull pouts.

Reborn blinks, mind scrambling to catch up with _what the hell is happening, he's dead and so is Skull actually so why does he feel very much not dead because ow, _the coffee is burning his hand.

He drops the mug, the dark liquid spilling into the carpet.

"...Renato?"

Renato. He hasn't heard that name since forever. He looks up to see Skull frozen midact with a hand inside the cabinet, staring at him with raised brows. He's dressed down out of his leather suit and in a familiar worn set of shirt and trouser, his face clear of make up, the purple tear drop tattoo on his cheek standing out strikingly against his natural paper white skin.

The afterlife. It makes sense, to be met by Skull, being the first of them to go.

His breath catch in his throat because that means the others might be here too. Here, where they, as a group, began and ended.

He recognizes the stove and the sink and the island in the centre of the room and the scent of cinnamon -Luce puts cinnamon in pretty much everything.

And also- "Why am I evil?"

It makes sense though. That his first words to the Sun after everything that has happened is an accusation.

All the words that no one spoke but everyone could hear. Blame. Hate. Grief.

He recalls, vividly, that moment Viper stood up and just left.

It had taken them at least a few days to realize that they weren't coming back. And the others just followed.

Things that should've been discussed, fingers that should've been pointed, anger that would've been vented -all of it left to simmer.

Viper had saved them the opportunity to wade through the problem as a family but also from the tragedy that would've come out of too sharp words that everyone would've thrown around but no one would actually mean.

In hindsight it was the right move. Now if only they followed that up by _talking _after everyone's temper had already cooled down.

But hindsight is always too late.

"...are you alright?"

"Why am I evil?"

He wants to hear it. He's reached the end and he wants to know where he went wrong - because there is no question.

He _knows _it was him who'd been the catalyst to the lines drawn between them like a gaping canyon -a not so imaginary border.

There's no place for denial in Limbo. There can't be.

At the very least, at the end of his life he wants to hear it said aloud.

Skull retrieves a jar of dried mango, sliding the cupboard door close, blinking at him in bemusement, and Renato tries not to be sick at the stark contrast of the Skull across him and the one that he'd become after the curse. For one, this Skull doesn't look at him with a fear concealed in the shadows of his eyes.

A fear born of hatred etched into his very identity as a Cloud chained down against his will.

"...seriously, is something wrong-?"

"Just tell me!" he blurts out, shooting up to his feet impatiently, sending the chair -he only distantly noted that he had been sitting down, apparently- toppling back.

His eyes widen, hands going up and the jar pressed to his chest as he jumps.

"Renato, dude, what the fuck?!"

He stiffen, turning to the door where Colonello stares at him in shock.

"...oh. You're here too?" He muttered, dazed.

"...uh?" Colonnello glanced in askance at Skull, who shrugged and inched his way towards the blond with his jar, "Yeah? As I've been. Since a week ago. As _you, know."_

Reborn blinks at them.

An outlandish notion suddenly begins taking shape.

"... say, you two... what's the date?"

"Huh?" Skull grunts, twisting the cap of the jar.

"September thirteen... nineteen thirty nine." Colonnello finishes under Reborn's intense gaze, ambling towards the refrigerator to take out a pitcher of cold water.

"Why? What for? Did you have some kind of appointment?"

He isn't listening through.

An odd ringing in his ears drowning the rest of the world.

_Holy. Fuck._


	29. Chapter 29

Verde was nine when he opened his eyes to an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar couch.

It was a green room, with a lot of green things, in different shades of green.

Overhead, a bold 'Verde' suspended in thin air was written in black.

He blinked.

Then he woke up back in his father's lonely hovel.  
_

Luce was nine when she fell asleep and dreamed.

And that was odd enough. Because Luce only ever dreamed when she was awake.

Never of the unrealistic, senseless, _magical_ dreams others talked about though. Hers were always so entrenched deep in reality.

She sometimes hated it.

Not this time though.

Her dream was of a room, painted in a balance of orange and green that was somehow, miraculously, still maintained an artistic class to it. Not that Luce knew that yet.

She was nine.

There was a sound of surprise and she looked around the chaise and found herself staring at an older boy huddled in a corner of a green couch with a shock of green hair, an open book on his lap. Floating on top of his head was a word that spelled 'Verde'.

"Orange?"

Luce blinked.

"Why are you in my dream?" She asked curiously.

The boy's -green- eyes flickered to her in surprise.

_"... Why are__ you_ in _my _dream? Not that this is a dream." He added.

"I don't know. This is the first time I've ever had a dream."

She shrugged, smiling

"How don't you dream?"

"I dream only when I'm awake."

"How odd." He glanced her up and down and said, "I'm Verde. I'm twelve."

Luce opened her mouth but then he pointed above her, "That's your name here."

She cranes her neck and saw that a word like his too was hovering over her.

"Luce... my name is Luce?"

"Yes."

She met his gaze and beamed.

"My name is Luce. I'm nine."  
_

Reborn stirred to a pair of voices talking.

A male and female and he instinctively shifted towards them, "Maman... Papan... hush."

A pause. Then a giggle.

"Yellow, wake up."

"Or should it be sleep up?"

"Don't speak nonsense Luce."

And it was then that he realized that the voices were too high to be his parents. And also he didn't _have _parents.

He shot up, a hand swinging in an arc around him as he surveyed his location.

A room, with an empty fireplace across the couch he was lying on, in a blend of orange, green, and yellow.

"Hey! Why did you try to punch us?"

He blinked at a girl around his age, in a puffy hat and black dress. A boy stood beside her, with odd green hair in worn out clothes.

"I'm dreaming." He said with confidence.

He clearly recalled falling asleep. And he could just tell, instinctively.

The girl eagerly nodded with a smile, seemingly having already forgotten almost getting caught by his fist, "Yup. We're all dreaming. That's your name here."

He looks up at where she's pointing and sees a 'Reborn' floating in mid air.

"Why Reborn?"

"Dunno." The boy, Verde, shrugged.

"... I'm Reborn. I'm nine."  
_

"I'm Lal and I'm nine."

The room was simple and circular with an empty fireplace even though it was warm. It was a mixture of tones of green, orange, yellow, and blue.

She especially liked the comfy loveseat.

And the other three seemed friendly.

She gave a shy smile.  
_

"Uh... Colonnello. That's so mouthy." He pouted.

He was cradled in a Bergère chair.

"This really confirms it. Nine year old. I still wonder what this place is though."

"Isn't this just my dream room? With my dream friends?"

Reborn snickered, "That's also another trend. No one here has friends in the real world."

The blue seemed to take center stage now.  
_

Fon liked the name he had in this place.

"You look tired?" Lal asked.

He grinned sheepishly, nose wrinkling.

"Ah, I fell asleep while training."

He sat on the ground, in a pile of red pillows, legs folded in front of him. Bold red accented everything.  
_

Skull cocked his head, "This is so cool. I know we're speaking different languages but I can still understand you. And my name's cool too."

"Yeah, Skull is like an overlord's name." Fon agreed.

Skull looked down at his purple recliner and he must say, the room was really colourful.  
_

Indigo bloomed on everything and Viper blinked at the seven people swarming them.

_"Um... who are you?"_

"Oh. An esper like Reborn." Verde habitually pushed up his glasses.

"Would you stop that? You're fiddling with your glasses too much. It's annoying" Lal huffed.

"Hey," Reborn smiled, "You can speak here, you know. And that's your name there."

_"Viper... I am speaking."_

"Don't you know how to move your mouth?" Fon asked curiously.

_"Like this?" _they opened and closed their mouth appropriately.

"Um.. No?" Skull chuckled

"Wait, so you're talking to us with your mind, in your sleep? That's so weird." Colonnello grinned.

Viper scanned the crowd curiously, blinking.

_"Hello. I think the room looks pretty."_

Everyone grinned.

"It is, isn't it?" Luce chirped.


	30. Chapter 30

Call out to the ones who commented! Shadewatcher specially for the previous chapter.

For everyone who read this and liked it thanks.

It was too late when I realized that there was a slight Reborn x Verde and I don't even ship them. It just kind of happened.

Always preferred Reborn x Bianchi to anything else.  
_

'Sticks and stones might break my bones, but words will never hurt me.'

Reborn calls bullshit.

He's watching words -vicious, mean, truthful words but never anything they _meant-_ slowly, steadily, chip at his Family, piece by piece.

The only Family he has in this world.

The only thing he has left after his body, his soul, his _life _had been stripped from him. Cruelly, _viciously, _stripped.

He's gonna lose this. To words.

He's gonna lose this and like everything he has lost, he won't be able to do anything about it.

He thinks it might be easier, if Fon just throws the punch the Storm is visibly holding in as he snarls at Verde. If Viper just dunks everyone into some nightmarish world of their own creation, shove in their face all the torture in the world, rather than just curling in a corner, a ringing emptiness in their head so similar to the one in Reborn's ears, listening to Lal shriek at Colonnello while he simply listens, eyes only on her and tears on both cheeks. Lal should just punch him. And Skull should actually_ do _something, for once in his life act like a Cloud, rather than just glaring at Reborn.

If they're fighting, Reborn can step in and stop them.

But no one's doing anything because they can barely even carry their heads, or the pacifiers too big for their necks and he doesn't know what to say to... _stop _this.  
___

It's Viper that leaves first.

It's only a whole month later that everyone finally understands that they're not planning to come back. Fon follows as he always tends to do with the Mist. Lal and, of course, Colonnello. Skull walks rather than drive, leaving behind the car Verde had given him to cope with his size.

Reborn stares at Verde across the table. There's the clank of the chinaware -Luce's chinaware.

And Reborn can't understand him. Not anymore. Not like those nights he'd go onto tangents that no one but Reborn could even follow.

But his voice had been a comforting buzz in front of the fire place.

Reborn can't say anything, still.

Because Reborn is so, so terrified of making this worse than it already is.

He leaves that day, after only a bite of the risotto Verde's cold automaton had prepared them.  
_

He meets them again, years and years later, definitely far past what he'd always believed to be his life expectancy.

And they sicken him.

Because Fon smiles so empty. None of that too bright gaze and too sharp smirk or that gait that subtly, ever so subtly, purposefully grates at one's pride. Lal and Colonnello... There's Lal, and there's Colonnello. Lal still racked with guilt, stubbornly using the pacifier to stay under the cursed form. Skull is... somewhere, like the Cloud that he is. And Viper is nowhere to be seen, only faint whispers of their name, as Misty as Misty can be.

Skull had always been such a people person and Viper, he knew, appreciated company. They must be lonely.

Verde's somewhere, with no need to eat or sleep or drink, he had no trouble keeping up the twenty-four seven work hours. And no one's really there to pull him from his work anyways.

And Reborn's in Vongola now, loosely associated but still associated.

Reborn can't... He just can't.

He can't do this.

He can't look at them and not hate what they have become, in their fear to be hurt again, hiding from the world in their own ways.

Especially knowing that he mirrored them.

That he buried his self deep into his work, not a single free moment, never letting his mind stray too far back, and creator of chaos everywhere, playing pretend that everything is under his control.

Fuck, he can't do this.  
_

It... surprisingly, gets better.

As long as he stays far away from them, just near enough to listen to the bits and pieces of news but never face to face, and there's no dry spell of job and he doesn't stay too long in one place and never keep to his thoughts and surrounds himself with noises and people and it's a difficult balance to keep to remember names and faces but not _too much _that they'll haunt him years down the line when the rest of the world has forgotten them except him and-

It gets better. Just a bit.

He still sometimes reaches too far but most of the time, as long as he keeps a straight head, he doesn't miss punches anymore. Though sometimes, when he sits for too long, the next time he tries to move the body is ill-fitting again and he has to start all over from the ground up.

It's getting better.

And he kind of hates that.  
_

He finally can't hold out anymore.

A wall had appeared between him and the world, and he had watched it being built brick by brick and didn't do a single thing to stop it.

Viper's dead, they say.

Not dead, dead.

They can't do that until... They don't know how long this is supposed to last.

Dead insane. Their mind has regressed apparently. The lost of their empathy and the other crippled powers. Reborn had only his telepathy to loose and even now it's still aching. He could only imagine the pain the most powerful esper had to go through as they're mentally maimed.

Reborn feels tired. Soul tired.

He can't go on.

The world is just a blur and he has a new student again.

And Reborn will teach again, pass on what he can, mold them into someone that can take on the world and everything that it throws in the way Reborn is tired to continue doing, and he hopes that he doesn't outlive this one.

Again.

... His Will is fading.  
_

He finds himself in a future. A dark, grim, future.

They are dead.

They were _killed._

And they hadn't been able to do anything against it.

_He _hadn't been able to do anything against it.

Reborn sinks in a complicated despair.

_Finally!, _a part of him sobs in relief.

_No, no. I don't want to die like this._

_I don't want us to die like this._

So many things left unsaid.

He never wanted any of them to die broken and whatever is left of his Will fades even more, and the weight of the Pacifier increases again.

He's been saying, for decades, of how he can't bear it anymore.

But it's not until now that it truly hits him. Now that he imagines another ten years of nothing changing, Tsuna growing, eventually older than even he had been before the curse and, inevitably, dying. Like the rest of the mortals in this ever changing world.

Like every life in the Reality and Universe that they carried.

It's not an anguished snarl.

This time, there is only resignation when he whispers.

_Please. I can't go on like this anymore._

_Someone, end this._

Checkerface answers.


	31. Chapter 31

Tsuna was tempted to curl in on himself. He was so nervous he imagined there were rabid dogs having a wild party in his stomach.

Reborn was leading him deeper in a forest somewhere -he wouldn't have an idea as he'd just been tossed out a plane after being nabbed in the middle of the night- with just the two of them alone, not even Leon with them.

He wasn't worried about wild animals or even an ambush. Tsuna was really more concerned about his tutor.

Now in the body of an eight year old -steadily growing in leaps and bounds-, Reborn had taken him aside earlier this week and with a solemn air, told him that they were going on an educational trip.

He hadn't mentioned when but Tsuna could put two and two.

Reborn had been quiet the whole time and it was doing things to his already non-existent calm. A quiet Reborn, especially with such a sombre air around him, couldn't be a good thing.

Mostly for Tsuna.

He recalled how his mafia raised friends had been particularly encouraging these past few days.

"You can do this Juudaime, you're the best!"

"That's right, Tsuna-nii will surely do great!"

"Not as great as Lambo-sama was!"

"I remember when that perverted doctor did it for Hayato. Aaah~, my baby brother was so cute."

"I'm sure you'll be alright, Boss."

"Kufufufu."

Well, mostly encouraging.

It only did the opposite and had him more apprehensive for whatever was to come.

He could conclude it was some kind of coming of age ceremony and if he were to be honest, Tsuna's greatest fear here was... he'd somehow mess up and disappoint Reborn. After everything that had happened too.

The Arcobaleno Representative Battles of a few months ago flashed through his mind.

He shook his head.

No. He couldn't think like that after... After everything he'd gone through. Positive.

Be positive Tsuna.

Though he'd never been very good at that...

No! Positive! Positive! Positive! Think Tsuna, if Lambo, who must've been even younger than his current age, passed -and a much younger Hayato too- then surely he could do it too.

But no one ever said they passed, did they?

Gah! This clearly wasn't working!

Reborn watched Tsuna pull at his hair, face flitting through different kinds of expressions. He held in a snicker.

Becoming a tutor might just probably be the best decision he had made in his life.

Then he remembered what they were here for, which inevitably had his thoughts heading to his _worst _decisions, and Reborn quickly lost his humour.

He stopped in the middle of a nondescript clearing. He kicked out the young Vongola's feet when he continued walking, absorbed in his thoughts.

That returned Reborn's good mood.

"Ack! Ow!"

"Alright, Dame-Tsuna. We're going to meet someone."

Tsuna scrambled to his feet. Reborn smirked when he, almost unconsciously, immediately went to tidying himself up to the best of his abilities while in a pair of pyjamas.

Some lessons, if you bash in hard enough, _would _stick.

Tsuna's back straightened, stance firm and eyes forward. At seventeen in his 'boss mode' as his family had began calling it, Tsuna looked anything but a no-good. Even in his pyjamas with uncombed hair.

A boss only greets someone in their best after all.

"Who is it Reborn?"

"I don't know."

"...eh?"

Reborn pretended he didn't hear him. Tsuna swallowed, bracing himself when the leaves rustled to their right.

Was this someone who'd judge him for his test or something? Why would Reborn not know him? Would he have to fight him?

Sometimes, -Not very often, mind you- Tsuna cursed his lack of knowledge when it came to mafia customs. For that matter, the movies never showed any of this!

Certainly no crazy baby tutors.

The thicket parted and out stepped a... A someone that reminded him of a washed out paper? Did that even make sense?

Tsuna blinked, schooling his face. He definitely didn't want to offend.

The man had porcelain white skin -his arms bare of any hair-, grayish green hair, skinny -almost gaunt- physique, and a pair of glowing red orbs peering at them. Saying eyes didn't seem right.

Reborn's expression immediately turned sour.

"Ohohoho, an Arcobaleno? What a surprise." His eyes pinned Tsuna in his place, his gaze unnaturally invasive.

"And a human." He raised an amused eyebrow, "Truly a surprise. A human with the Sun Arcobaleno. I should talk to a witch and see what this omen means?"

"Dame-Tsuna, this piece of repulsive waste of space you're seeing here is a vampire, now let's go."

...huh?

"W-what? Wait! Reborn, what-ow! Ow! Ow!"

The boy barely half Tsuna's height had grabbed his collar and was towing him away, dragging him through the ground.

"Hey," the vampire -Tsuna didn't have a reason to doubt Reborn's word- drawled in his velvety voice, "Now, now, Sun Arcobaleno, let's respect tradition, we haven't finished the ceremony yet."

"We'll return when it's not a vampire. I don't want my kid to have a horrible impression."

"Thats not how it works. I mean, what will your fellows think if they heard what you're doing? This is insane breach of protocol you know."

Reborn apparently didn't want him anywhere near a vampire -and if the stories were true then he was of the same mind- though said vampire didn't seem to actually be doing anything to earn the hostility.

In fact, strangely enough, the vampire reminded him of Takeshi's own easy going attitude.

He winked at Tsuna.

Though with Byakuran's kind of creepiness.

Reborn stopped. Turned, and tilted the brim of his hat over his eyes.

"Planning to tattle, I see."

He shrugged, a smile playing on his lips.

"You can't blame me, Their Majesty expressed curiosity and I just happen to be the one holding the ceremony now, who am I to deny them?"

The look Reborn gave him was as dry as the Sahara.

"They're always curious. How is that anything new?"

Your Majesty?! Who's Your Majesty?! Tsuna didn't know anything about having to deal with royalty!

"Reborn, you're choking me! Also, what's happening?"

The man's eyes lit up -literally, it glowed like a lamp. Gleefully, the stranger spread his arms, his grin stretching the skin on his face in a way that made Tsuna want to wince.

"Little human boy, my name is Jakra, a vampire from the Mexican coven. You are currently participating in a ceremony to introduce you to the so called supernatural world."


	32. Chapter 32

_"Hey, hey! She's waking up!"_

_"Don't stress newbie. They do that sometimes. The brain needs some kind of stimulation and since they're always sleeping, sometimes they search for it and wake up a bit. Nothing to worry about, they'll fall back asleep soon. Oh, and also don't refer to it as 'her'."_

_"Eh? Why?-"_  
___

_"-the older one. What's gonna happen to him- I mean, it?"_

_"Dunno. Some experiments."_

_"Why him? The readings say that the sister has more Flame output."_

_"Exactly. The boss is saving her for something really good."_  
___

_"Damn those arrogant pricks!"_

_"Isn't that a British insult?"_

_"...Why would you care what country my curse came from?"_

_"Can it even be counted as a curse?"_

_"...aren't you angry? They got the older one and are rubbing it in our faces -as if that actually matters!"_

_"Then why are you angry?"_

_"Because- ugh!"_

_"This can't have anything to do with that woman, can it?-"_  
___

_"We're like a family here. We've got the lab as the house, her as the daughter, I'm the dad, and you're the mom."_

_"...alright, I'll bite. Why am I the mother? You're smaller, younger, and you're even thinner, kiddo. You lose in all aspects."_

_"Stop calling me kiddo! I'm only two years younger than you!"_

_"Of course, and let's conveniently forget the other parts."_  
___

_"-er getting psychic readings from the younger one."_

_"Hm. Good, good. This is great. The boss will raise our pay for this."_

_"Why? I mean, it's not like we're responsible for it. We didn't cultivate it or anything."_

_"Ah, but he doesn't know that."_  
___

_"-did you join?"_

_"Ehhhhh... No reason really. What about you?"_

_"Money. Money makes the world go round. It's just another form of power. And power makes the world move. It's the most important thing in the physical plane. Knowledge can't be gained without money -food, shelter, clothes, _love, all of it. You need money for everythi-"

"I get it! I get it! Sheesh! I didn't ask for another rant about your money! Mikey, y_ou have_ a problem."

"And I also have a solution."

"Let me guess, money?"  
_

Sometimes, there are these voices. More often there's only silence.

And then, other times, there's The Other One.

The Other One is different from 'mom' and 'dad'. His voice always comes from inside, never outside, and it echoes to It like a ripple in It's mind that threatens to consume It.

The Other One scares It.

It and The Other One cannot imagine a life without each other.

They are... Important.  
_

_You are... must be Sister..._

Then you are Brother.  
_

It is Sister. And The Other One is Brother.  
_

_"Hey, why does she wake up more often than him? Her brain activity shouldn't be this much, should it?"_

_"What did I say about the pronouns."_

_"Oh, come on. No matter what I call them, there's no way anyone can grow attached to some eternally sleeping brats."_

_"...The other one gets dosed with pain relievers and a hundred other drugs. This one only has the one we use."_

_"...just a thought, but wouldn't enough doses make her immune?"_

_"... we'll up the dosage just in case."_  
___

There is more silence.  
_

_"-move-"_

_"-seperate-"_

_Sis... don't leave... please... please... don't want to be... alone._

Not gonna let go.

_Not... gonna...-_

_Not gonna...-_

_...Not forget..._  
_

_"-snakey, snakey, hisssssss..."_

_"...What the hell are you doing?"_

_"...I don't know either. I went to the zoo yesterday and saw a viper and then I just keep thinking about it."_

_"How did you even get into the Estraneo?"_

_"Hey, brains isn't all the requirements."_

_"Clearly. You do realize what you just implied?"_

_"It's like a viper right? I mean, it's behind a glass aquarium-ish thing and all."_

_"And of course we ignore what I said."_  
___

Viper... I want to be Viper, Brother.

_Why? Don't you want to be my Sister anymore?_  
_

There is only silence.  
_

And then Viper opens their eyes to cold air, broken glass, a burning world, and the star studded sky.

It is magnificent.

There is no Brother and there is no 'mom' and 'dad'. And Viper is damp, bare, and shivering in the chill of the night.

They don't close their eyes for worry that they will not be able to open them again, then stretches their mind to encompass a very large area -they don't know how large but certainly larger than what they can see- and they find the musings of a rabbit for a place to sleep, the thoughts of a deer hiding from prey, the deliberation of a hunting wolf, and the fears of a lost man, completely fascinating.

XxXxXx

**Again and again, I find myself surprised at the things I find in my files...**

**I THINK this is supposed to be Viper and Mukuro being twins, or siblings, and waking up in completely different decades...**


	33. Chapter 33

Reborn had thrown his suit and tie over the back of the chair and pulled his sleeves up to his elbows. He scrutinised the artfully arranged plate of brown crusted fried steak garnished with gravy and some grated greens on his kitchen table.

Finally, he deemed it alluring enough.

_Groupchat._

A translucent yellow board flickered into existence only a meter or so from the tip of his nose. He navigated it with practiced ease, having had an entire year to get accustomed to the superior technology.

Manually dragging it above the styled plate, the board showed a magnified replica of the scene in front of him. It was clear to the point that one could clearly see the steam still rising from it.

_Click_

He confirmed 'save' and then 'send'.

Reborn grinned and waited.

And just as he sat down and began to help himself to the dinner he had lovingly made with his own hands, a _ding!_ came from the Chatgroup.

_Colonnello: Fuck you. Fuck you so hard you'll never be able to walk, sit, or eat!_

_Luce: That looks wonderful. Did you make it yourself?_

_Skull: I just had lunch, you twat._

_Colonnello: I wish that when someone finally kills you, I don't care who or when, but it better be as slow and fucking painful as possible._

_Reborn: Awww, why don't you go make yourself something nice too._

_Reborn: Oh wait. You can't._

Reborn smirked, snickering to himself.

The guy currently flooding the board with curses was apparently a soldier. Of course he didn't know which country, but Reborn was confident in that wherever it was, he should be somewhere in the thick of things somehow.

And they certainly wouldn't have scrumptious fried steak in the trenches.

_Colonnello: FUCK. YOU._

_Reborn: Gasp! The capitals!_

_Lal: That was unnecessary Reborn._

Said hit man pouted, cutting himself a bite of his steak.

_Reborn: Che. Where were you when he was bullying me? I had no choice but to take things into my hands and make a stand. I can't be a pushover forever._

_Fon: I can smell your bullshit from here._

Reborn scoffed.

Though Lal had been online from the beginning, she probably hadn't been paying attention since she hadn't said anything until now.

_Reborn:_ _Luce, you snitched on me. Wanna get some stitches?_

_Luce: Haha. Try it. :D_

His eye twitched at the ':D' in the end. Before he could think up a come back, an activity pulled everyone's attention.

After an entire month of inactivity from their side with the only news of their well-being coming from Fon's occasional careful remarks, Viper was finally online.

_Skull: Viper! We missed you! Where have you been?_

_Reborn: What kept you so busy? Couldn't spare even a second just to check in?_

_Verde: You had us concerned._

_Luce: Are you alright?_

_Colonnello: Vipes! Don't just do that! You worried me!_

_Lal: What happened?_

After letting everyone settle down, Viper finally decided to reply.

_Viper: Sorry. I was in the middle of a change of profession._

_Lal: WHAT HAPPENED?_

Even Reborn himself paused.

After years worth -give or take- of interaction, they had at the very least vague ideas about the others.

Fon and Viper knew each other since a long time ago. Fon was older and knew quite a bit about Chinese poems. Viper had an entire army's worth of cactus and was sharp on picking up on certain things. Colonnello was a soldier in the front lines and quite the foody. Verde was a scientist with an eye for colour coordination. Lal had a thing for history and guns and anything pointy and slicey. Luce knew Greek myths and how to get her way like the back of her hand. Skull liked bikes, motors, heights, and had some supposedly unusual diet.

And it was never discussed but everyone had silently acknowledged that Lal, Colonnello, and Viper were on the 'legal authority' side of things. With a sprinkle of the occasional dirty work.

While everyone else in the group was clearly not.

Skull never hid his job as a stuntman, what with him using his Chat name as his stage name and his unsubtle endorsements, and Verde told them once that he operated between the lines -so, neutral, most likely with some 'plausible deniability' shtick- but that was it for the civilians.

_Lal: Viper. What happened?_

_Viper: In a sense, I suppose I was fired._

After a particularly long beat later, someone finally figured something to say to that.

_Luce: Do you need help?_

Honestly, this Luce...

_Viper: No thank you. I've already settled it_.

_Verde: Good then. You came back just on time. Everyone, look at this._

Reborn washed his meal down with a glass of cool water as a photo appeared.

In it was the now familiar lab and on a desk were two thin disks faintly glowing white from a dot in center.

_Verde: Remember when you wanted that Cryosphere Gater, Skull?_

_Skull: Yes! But you didn't want to send it to me through the Groupchat because of limitations and not being sure if it's stored energy will become unstable and go boom after I take it out, like that Hastecarrier._

_Skull: ! Don't tell me, is that it?! Did you make it into a tiny thing that I just have to press to reveal?!_

_Verde: No._

_Verde: At least you understood a bit. What you're saying would've only been temporary solution. I can't possibly compress all my creation just to send it you. And anyways, there's an easier solution to not being able to send my stuff through a foreign channel._

_Verde: I just made my own Teleporters._

"Ho?"

_Reborn: Wait, then..._

_Lal: Yes!_

_Luce: Do we have to be worried about weapons of mass destruction suddenly appearing in the news?_

_Lal: Nonesense. We won't be that irresponsible._

_Reborn: Yeah. We remember Verde's reminder about 'keeping things careful lest the balance in power tips'. We're adults. We know control and discipline and moderation. _

_Reborn: Now, gimme that blaster._

_Colonnello: Shut up, Reborn. Don't lump us with you. As long as it's coming from you, none of that yak could be believed even if we wanted to._

_Fon: That's still supposing we can receive these teleporters intact and working._

_Verde: Indeed. While this Groupchat is far advanced from the technologies of its time, it still can use quite some upgrades._

_Viper: That's right. I'm sure you can do it, so why haven't you fixed it yet?_

_Verde: Nothing in science is certain. You usually need to overturn things to determine how it works. I might accidentally put it down and even now, how should I know how it even managed to connect all eight of us specifically._

_Verde: If you're alright with the risk, I can try._

_Reborn: Nah, nevermind. You can just make more things like this to cope with its flaws._

_Skull: What are you still waiting for! Send it! So I can greet my baby!_

Verde has sent a gift.

Accept?

Reborn eagerly pressed the yes.

Though he might've sounded sarcastic, even he wouldn't want to call attention from the Vindice. He obviously wouldn't be toting around high-tech weapons in plain view, it was just for playing and petting it in private.

After receiving the gadget and then promptly the weapon, and then everyone getting a second and third reassurance from both Viper and Fon as to their current state of affairs, Reborn retired from the window with a yawn, bringing the dirty dish in the sink.

He had been nine when the floating board first popped up in front of him. At that time, Verde and Luce had been the only other names on it. It wasn't long after, that Lal and Colonnello appeared, followed by Fon with a couple of years gap, and then Skull.

They learned that, for some reason, nine was some kind of milestone that activated the Groupchat for each person. Viper was the latest addition, from about three years ago -give or take some months.

As for what exactly it was... well, they had a sort of idea thanks to no small part to Verde.

But as for why these particular individuals specifically, it was still up in the air. That also included the open ended question of until when it would continue introducing new 'members'.

He decided to have a short nap beside his brand new blaster before setting out to stake his target later.


	34. Chapter 34

Huh?

"Hey, you."

Reborn waved his hand and the bartender obediently approached him.

"Sir?"

The hitman pointed at the yellow translucent board floating a few meters from the tip of his nose.

"What do you see?"

The man blinked blankly. Double-checked it again just in case, then he glanced at him hesitantly, "Um, sir... How many glasses have you drank?"

"...you're right. Seems like I had too much I'm seeing things. Never mind then, go back to your job, I'm just going to rest here for a bit." Reborn threw him a winsome grin.

Once the man had stopped sneaking worried glances at him, Reborn examined the thing more closely.

On the uppermost left was his name. Or rather, the word 'Reborn'. While the left part had 'Luce', 'Verde', 'Lal', 'Colonnello', 'Fon', 'Skull', and 'Viper' in a list format with bright white dots beside each word. The lower hemisphere of the window was occupied with four rows of letters and numbers, and some signs, with one notably reading 'Enter' and another that said 'Send'.

An illusion? Then what was the purpose of showing him something that meant absolutely nothing to him? Something he couldn't make heads or tails with.

He thought back to the bartender doubtfully. Was it just to make him act crazy or something?

_Beep._

He almost jumped. He looked at the screen and in the part that was previously empty, there was now something written.

_Verde: Who is responsible for this? What is the purpose?_

So 'Verde' is a someone.

Reborn narrowed his eyes but didn't move. He waited.

He didn't have to wait long.

_Beep._

_Skull: Hey, am I really talking to someone? Are you a person? Is this an illusion?_

Then barely a beat went by before someone followed up.

_Viper: I do not know what this is but this is not an illusion._

Reborn raised an eyebrow.

_Colonnello: How would you know?_

_Viper: Mist. I would've known if someone was infringing their own Flames on me._

_Lal: I second. This is not an illusion. Now someone answer Verde._

_Skull: You're also a Mist?_

_Fon: I am a Storm. This is not an illusion. It would've already disappeared after the first time I flared my Flames._

_Luce: This does not seem to be Flame supported from my side. At least not one that is foreign. It seems that my own Flames had somehow established my connection with this group and I would hazard it should be the same on your sides too._

He pursed his lips in consideration. He confirmed what she said.

But then... How?

_Verde: Explain._

_Luce: Sky._

Reborn had watched and carefully examined the words that were appearing. It seemed that this was some kind of communication platform connecting him to seven other random people.

_Verde: Concerning. Suspicious. Try blasting it with your Flames._

He began with tentatively tapping on the 'D' letter, feeling a bit of marvel to see it appear in a bar.

_Reborn: Doesn't react to sun flames._

_Skull: Not cloud flames either._

_Colonnello: Or rain._

_Verde: Did this appear in front of you at around five minutes ago?_

_Lal: Positive._

_Luce: Yes_

_Colonnello: Yes_

_Reborn: Yes_

_Skull: Yeah_

_Fon: Yes_

_Viper: Yes_

_Verde: There is a box button at the top right with the dash in it. It closes the board._

Reborn saw it exactly as Verde said and bowed his head, the screen following his line of sight so he could press the button while looking as if he just tapped the table rather than making an air quote as he suddenly realized it must've looked like to others.

Indeed, it was gone. A beep rang in his head.

He frowned and it reappeared again after a simple thought.

_Colonnello: So what now? Do we introduce ourselves?_

Stupid question?

But also clever at the same time? Reborn didn't know why but he could... feel, the slyness to his tone?

He glanced away, puzzled.

_Skull: We already have names though? Written there?_

_Colonnello: Is your name really Skull? And why are you overusing your question marks?_

_Skull: Yeah, actually. Coz I wanted to. Hey, where are you from? Are we all, like in one city or just different parts of the world? That'd be cool right. I'm in Russia._

_Colonnello: Huh. Easily saying that. Shouldn't you be more careful?_

_Skull: Oh yeah? Are you gonna try searching the whole Russia for me right now?_

_Viper: Interesting._

_Lal: So we are presumably scattered across the globe._

_Skull: Hey, why am I the only one who said my location?_

_Colonnello: You volunteered the information. No one agreed to do the same._

_Verde: I'll examine this and see if it has any adverse effect._

_Luce: Please let us know if you find anything._

Pip.

The light beside Verde and Fon dimmed and Viper followed not long after. Then Luce and Lal.

Reborn closed the window after a whole minute of no activity. He could sense that the others had been waiting for someone to make the first move.

He spent the next couple of hours blasting it with Sun Flames from multiple angles, with varied output, and just basically trying to get some kind of reaction.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned. Then he got up and saluted the bartender goodbye, leaving some lira as a tip for not being unnecessarily nosy while Reborn had been seemingly making expressions at thin air.

What to think of this...?

What was there to think of it?

Reborn supposed he was stuck with the ability to communicate to seven unknown people across the world for now.

At least until he got some rest and then try his hand at cracking the thing again later.

XxXxXxX

_Reborn: Am I the only one who noticed, but I think I can feel your emotions?_

He learned that he could operate the board with just his thoughts.

_Verde: It's not just think. You are actually feeling it._

_Verde: I have conducted multiple tests. After reviewing my emotional waves during that first conversation, rather than only my own emotions, it had also recorded Skull's annoyance. I've noted that only the emotions during the 'sent' are the ones transmitted to me. Though the reports imply that I myself am feeling the emotions, it was only the circumstances inadvertently tampering with the results. After I adjusted it, it showed that in actuality, I only received the impression of your emotions and nothing more._

That was quick. This person must be some family's scientist. With resources.

Reborn nodded to himself, now feeling assured about this whole thing. Assuming the man was being honest and not omittting anything.

_Beep._

Rather than the words he expected, a scene of some kind of alcohol on a simple wooden desk popped up beside the name 'Skull'.

_Skull: Hey. Guys!_

_Skull: I've been experimenting and look, this is so amazing. I can take photos with just one click with it. Hahaha! Try it. Just click your own name and there's a different board that'll show_

_Viper: This is useful._

Reborn felt a wave of what tasted like childish wonder and he wasn't sure whom it was from. As if on cue, the Rain guy popped up.

_Colonnello: Let's list out our age. Anyone younger than me gets to call me senpai._

_Skull: Sen-what? What's that?_

_Reborn: Anyone younger than me gets to call me your majesty._

_Fon: No._

"-Lal."

Reborn's ears perked up and he glanced at the men in the table across him.


	35. Chapter 35

_Enter username..._

Username? What was that?

Reborn frowned at the translucent yellow board floating a meter or so from the tip of his nose. It followed his line of sight and was perpetually smack dab on whatever he faced.

The upper half of the board only had those two words but the lower half had rows of the complete alphabet notably _not _in the alphabetical order, the numbers one to zero, and a collection of symbols he mostly recognized.

He had already done everything that he could've done to slip through an illusion. Including the more extreme ones, as evidence by his slightly mangled left arm -desperate measures and all that. After all, he didn't know what an illusionist could possibly want by casting an illusion that only made him confused but not knowing was the entire danger behind it.

Reborn absently massaged his arm and after a flash of yellow flames later, it was as good as new.

To the extent of his knowledge, which was rather extensive if he might say so himself, this was _not _an illusion. He'd even searched for the connection between him and the floating board -because with it seemingly anchored to him, there had to be something- and blasted the thing with high density Sun Flames.

No reaction though. It stayed fixed.

Raking a hand through his hair, Reborn reached up and spelled out his name.

_Reborn_

With the first letter he pressed, the button that read 'enter' lit up. He pressed it.

_Beep._

_Establishing connection with Arcobaleno GroupChat..._

_Ping!_

_Connection established._

Then the board flickered into a black backdrop with white bold letters.

_Arcobaleno Fourth Incarnation Welcomes Sixth Incarnation_

_Beep._

Then a man appeared in the screen, blinking back at Reborn. The hit man's brows furrowed.

This is... a film?

He wore black kohl around his eye and had cloth over his hair and the way his lips moved didn't match with what Reborn was hearing -which was also in Italian.

_"I am the Fourth incarnation of the Twilight Sky, I go by the name Menes."_

His tone couldn't be said to be solemn. But neither was it carefree.

_"What you are experiencing now, is the Arcobaleno mainframe that I have created."_

This was the first time Reborn had seen a film this long and it was probably an insult to even put it in the same category as what he knew to be a 'film'.

_"The fact that you are listening to this in this very second only means that the requirements have been reached and the trigger activated. Currently, there are eight people listening to this record most likely from different corners of the world."_

The man's, Menes', form was so clear he could really have been peering at him through a window between time and space for all that Reborn could feel the _life _of the man.

And more unnerving, Reborn was suddenly feeling as if he _knew_ him.

And not just in a superficial 'dead pharaoh that might have probably been just a myth anyways' way.

_"As much as I would like to explain more, there is much to cover and I do not have the sufficient ability to both impart to you the necessary knowledge and warn you of what exactly everything might entail."_

The man frowned then sighed.

_"I of course have a solution for that and I advise that you brace yourself. Forgive me in advance for the ensuing discomfiture and distress but there is not much more I can do to prepare you for it."_

Then an abrupt wave of pain pierced through his mind to the point that he was already being yanked back into consciousness before he realized he had even blacked out.

He supposed he really should've gone back to the hotel first before he tinkered with the mystery floating square. He fell from the crate he had been sitting on and collapsed on the damp alley ground, struggling to stifle his grunts as he gritted his teeth.

Fragmented and vague memories rushed into him, cluttered and muddled and detached but still, somehow, unmistakably his.

In that state of half awake and half asleep (maybe dead), he dreamt.

He dreamt of being many people.

Each one with different names and different lives, different set of parents and friends, and different values from different times and places. Some as good as one could be good, some as evil and vile as the lines permitted, and some being worse.

It was a cacophony of lives with similarities and differences of not being able to be reconciled with being one.

For an instance, he slipped and let go.

And he was thousand and thousand of faces and opinions.

Then the Mainframe -which he now knew to have been created by the Sky, Sky, his Sky, their Sky- settled in his the back of his consciousness.


	36. Chapter 36

Reborn shot up awake, gasping.

Fuck. _Fuck!_

He was going to _slaughter _that white-haired bastard.

He gripped the sheets pooled under him, gritting his teeth and bursting with unrestrained fury. An insult.

It was an insult.

The guy hadn't even had the guts to face him head on! Reborn was killed by an _underling!_

An _underling!_

_A goon!_

Death would be too pleasant of an end!

The air rippled with killing intent.

He was going to make him pay.

Byakuran.

The man who killed _them -__**unforgivable**__\- _and killed him and-

And wait the fuck a minute.

Reborn blinked blankly, thoughts screeching to a halt.

He... The man who...

The man who killed him. Him. Reborn. Meaning he was killed.

Meaning he was... dead?

Finally, Reborn actually registered his surroundings. A simple bed, with an almost-but-not-quite threadbare blanket, a cabinet beside it, a window overlooking the inside of an alley, and then two adjacent doors -one of them probably leading to a bathroom.

Vaguely familiar.

But... where? It had been a remarkably long time since he had been in a room this ratty. Definitely no one would dare to give him a room like this and he could afford any hotel in the world with his long accumulated fortune.

Except that wasn't the most remarkable thing.

Reborn stared at his hands.

Bony, callused, and large.

At least, larger than a baby's. And he'd had decades, to learn by heart what the hands of a baby looked like.

A not-quite panic surged in him.

He threw off the sheet on top of him and stared wide-eyed at a pair of adult legs, his toes just visible past the hem of the black trousers. He distantly noted that he had stopped breathing and was having difficulty resuming the rhythm.

Reborn jumped off the bed, stumbling towards one of the doors and practically battering it down. He felt heady.

He stopped short of the sink and stared back at the reflection of his adult self.

...well, _almost _his pre-Arcobaleno adult self.

He thought he was in his early to mid twenties maybe.

But he couldn't care less about the specifics.

_His neck was bare. _

And he was at least five feet tall, again.  
_

He was twenty-four.

Reborn glanced over the newspaper, littered with the familiar propaganda from a time he thought to be long ago.

November 1, 1914.

The first year of the first great war.

Five years until the Fated Day.

He set aside the papers and drank his tea, watching people stroll down the streets with some driving around Pierce-arrow runabouts, Premiere four-door tourings, and other old gear automobiles.

...He wasn't sure how he should feel in this situation.

Not exactly relieved. There was still the rage, though now subdued what with the fact that the target hadn't even been born yet. And... Well.

Maybe anticipation.

They had _died. Killed. _Except for Lal, everyone else, including him now, was...

But anyhow, his course of action was obvious. He needed to track down the others.

After all, if he also went back in time after dying, the same might've happened to them. No one could know the effects of dying as an Arcobaleno, after all.

He was carefully refusing not to think about parallel universes, timelines, and the probability of him still being in his original universe.

He nibbled his sandwich.

Reborn mentally reviewed his chronology.

So by this point in time, he had already established his reputation. Definitely not to the same extent as it was in the future, what with the lack of a widespread information platform like the internet, but still not inconsequential. At the very least in Europe, he already had a stable foothold.

He closed his eyes.

Luce should be the easiest to find.

...But he was honestly not feeling up to seeing her yet. He even had to struggle to consciously think of her.

So that left the others.

Out of everyone, only Fon, Lal, and Colonnello, were aligned to an organization. Verde was an independent element of his own.

He opened his eyes to gaze at the clock over the door of the cafe.

Skull was already performing and was a rising star so getting to him should be relatively smoother, what with him being a civilian while the others already had people backing them.

Well, there was also Viper and their brother, they should be just a bit harder to locate than Skull...

But that still remained the question of how exactly he, a renowned hitman, was going to approach them without accidentally creating some kind of needless suspicion if it happened that they didn't have memories of the future.

He stalled, before admitting to himself -_hopefully _they didn't have memories of the future.

Reborn sighed through his teeth.

Shit, this was hard.

He couldn't bring himself to be careless. Reborn knew exactly what was hinging here.

This was a chance. A _second chance._

If... if he played his cards right...

He dabbed a napkin over his mouth, his eyes dark as he stared at the table-top.

_If he played his cards right, this time around, he won't only get his family back._

_He could keep them._

He was so ridiculously unbalanced right now. The thousand 'maybe's and 'what if's running through his head that he had come to memorize through the years -each one that he might very well be able to turn into reality now.

_..._This was the first time in his life he felt pressured to the point of almost wanting to hurl.

(Still not enough to make him sympathize with Tsuna, though.)


	37. Chapter 37

Reborn stared at the nondescript building and could already hear the beat of the percussion, accompanied with some kind of string instruments.

Skull was in the Americas on a tour. But Viper had always been less conspicuous.

Though it had been, unexpectedly, a harder feat to dig up their whereabouts than what he'd expected, he still got what he wanted in the end.

He stepped into the building and simply followed the music. Despite himself, he felt an emotion he couldn't name building up in his gut.

By the time he reached the hall leading straight to what he could see was an open room, he could make out the rapid cluck of beads clashing against each other.

Reborn found himself hesitating beneath the doorway and his eyes instantly glued to the dancers in the center of the room, surrounded in a circle by the audience.

There wasn't a lead, per se, but he knew those purple tresses and they immediately stood out to him with barely any effort.

Viper had sheer cloth artfully draped around them, trailing behind every twist and turn, strings of beads and rings sewn to their purple genie pants and top. The lower part of their face was veiled by a white cloth, completing the air of mystique.

As usual, their dance had a captivating charm. He had a feeling it was especially so right now.

Almost unconsciously, he approached them. He only stopped when he was at the edge of the inner circle.

Viper -who wasn't called Viper yet- turned and he met a pair of emerald eyes.

He held it with baited breath.

At this distance, he could see the gold specks and nostalgia in their eyes glittering under the lights.

And he knew this was Mammon.

Their eyes momentarily widened but they didn't falter in their dance and he was left staring after them.

He was left feeling both relieved and...

Disappointed.

That was it, wasn't it?

Viper, at this time, he knew should only be eleven.

And he had hoped to use that. They were just civilian, at this point in time.

Their brother was still alive and they didn't yet have a reason to delve into the mafia.

It should've been ridiculously easy to get them on his side with the right timing. But now...

The chances of the others having returned too had become higher and...

It seemed there won't be any convenient amnesia to make a clean slate of all the resentment that had grown and accumulated between them.

Reborn stayed standing where he was until the end of the performance, the sound of his blood rushing in his ears occasionally managing to tune out even the drums.

The crowd applauded and they bowed, slipping into the conjoined room in the back. He snuck after them.

And found himself face to face with an equally startled Fon.

Even he had almost whipped out his gun.

They stared at each other.

"...Reborn?"

Reborn shouldn't have existed yet. He was still just Renato.

"...Fon."

Fon blinked.

Then he nodded, a smile slowly surfacing on his face, his muted green changshan contrasted with the bright red he wore in the future.

"You searched for us?"

"I didn't expect you to be in London too."

He chuckled, glancing at the door of the dressing room, "Indeed."

They stepped behind a corner.

"Have you already met with Viper?"

Fon's eyes snapped towards him and Reborn had to steel himself not to look away.

"...yes. I immediately came here right after I woke up."

Reborn raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

"When did you wake up?"

"November one. The same with Viper."

Huh. So presumably, they would've all woken up at the same time. Which meant that the order of their... deaths, didn't matter.

"Huh? It had taken me a week to find these place, how did you get here that fast?"

Fon raised a sleeve over his smile, "I already knew it since before."

...ah. Right.

"Are you worried?"

Reborn frowned, looking towards the nineteen year old, "What?"

There were a lot of things to be worried about in their circumstances, he needed to be more specific.

"About Viper? Are you worried how they'll react to you?"

No. He wasn't.

He already knew they wouldn't be pleased at least.

"You'd be surprised." Fon continued, not looking at him.

Chatters filtered through the open door and the girls trickled out. Viper appeared last.

Reborn studied them with an air of astonishment.

They looked... animated, with a red ribbon holding their hair in a half up hairdo, dressed in a wool dress and stockings. Their face was bare, not even their future trademark fang tattoos was present yet.

"I think..." And Reborn could still hear the uncertainty he tried to cover up in Fon's tone as they watched Viper approach them, eyes furrowed anxiously.

Without the hood and the illusions, they had always been easy to read.

"I think going back in time, would change more than we probably ever expected."

"Hey."

Viper curled a corner of their lips.


	38. Chapter 38

"I can't stay long. I'll go back in an hour."

Reborn and Fon frowned, "Viper, we still have things to dis-"

"Tara. My name is Tara."

Reborn sighed, "Right. Tara. We still have things to discuss."

"No." They set down the glass of iced lemonade and met their gazes.

They were in one of the London branches of Fon's father's restaurants, tucked away in some obscure corner. A banquet of Sichuan dishes was spread out on a round table and Viper was visibly pleased with it.

It had been an unbelievably long time since he had a stare down with those particular eyes. Reborn _almost_ forgot how unnerving they were.

"_We _do not have anything to discuss. In fact, since I know getting rid of you at this point simply isn't possible, I'll just tell you now that I'll settle with anything you and the others agree upon. But I'm staying with my brother."

"Skull is your brother." Fon pointed out.

"I'm staying with Sam." They added, unperturbed and with a finality in their tone that showed that they intended to fight it through if need be.

"Okay."

They were somehow being cordial with the two of them, and that hadn't happened since before that whole fake death ordeal that he hadn't gotten an explanation about from them yet.

Reborn didn't want to get into any arguments this early in their 'revival' -even less so to ignite it himself if Viper was keeping a check on themselves. He knew when to back down.

Though of course he rarely did so, he decided that he should try it more this time around.

_'What if he had given in more? If he hadn't always pushed so much and been so arrogant-'_

Viper blinked, evidently not expecting his easy acquiescence.

Even Fon stared.

"...Alright. But we don't even have cell phones in this time yet. How should we pass on messages between each other?"

Fon placed a slice of boiled fish in his mouth.

...It was a bit odd to be having a peaceful lunch with them after decades of barely chilled animosity.

But since neither was willing to show it, he didn't either.

"Don't contact me until you deal with things, by then Verde will probably already have something on hand."

Reborn tried the pepper chicken, "I'll be tracking down Verde first. With Lal and Colonnello... Well, who knows if I'll just end up getting arrested for my efforts."

"It will be difficult, won't it? With the tightening of the borders, going around without garnering attention will be hard."

"Have you met with Luce, yet?"

As expected of Viper to just bludgeon through that.

Though to be fair, he wouldn't have been surprised either if it had come from Fon.

"...no," he grabbed a glass of cool water, gulping it down.

Then, hesitantly, after a long moment of silence, he finally admitted, "I don't think I want to. Ever. I don't know what I'm hoping for."

The Luce who was going to betray them or the one that had already betrayed them.

Fon and Viper exchanged glances.

Reborn understood.

He was unsettling _himself._

He was usually the self-assured, unflappable, self-proclaimed entity of chaos.

But he figured that he had finally reached his quota for regrets and it had filled him up, spilling out and overflowing.

_'If only... He had been less guarded, less paranoid, and more willing to meet them halfway.'_


End file.
